MEDITATIONS 



CONTEMPLATIONS. 



JAMES HERVEY, A.M. 



WITH A SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR'S LIFE. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED BY JAMES B. SMITH & CO., 

146 CHESTNUT SEREET. 



• 



*% 



By Transfer 
JUN 6 1907 



TO MISS R T . 

MADAM, 

These Reflections, the one on the deepest, the other 
on the gayest scenes of nature, when they proceeded 
privately from the pen, were addressed to a lady of 
the most valuable endowments, who crowned all her 
other endearing qualities, by a fervent love of Christ 
and an exemplary conformity to his divine pattern. 
She, alas! lives no longeron earth; unless it be in 
the honours of a distinguished character, and in the 
bleeding remembrance of her acquaintance. 

It is impossible, madam, to wish you a richer 
blessing, or a more substantial happiness, than that 
the same spirit of unfeigned faith, the same course 
of undefiled religion, which have enabled her to 
triumph over death, may both animate and adorn 
your life. And you will permit me to declare, that 
my chief inducement in requesting your acceptance 
of the following Meditations, now they make a public 
appearance from the press, is, that they are designed 
to cultivate the same sacred principle, and to promote 
the same excellent practice. 

Long, Madam, may you bloom in all the vivacity 
and amiableness of youth, like the charming subject 
of one of these Contemplations. But at the same 
time remember, that, with regard to such inferior 
accomplishments, you must one day fade, (may it 
prove some very remote period !) like the mournful 



\v DEDICATION, 

objects of the other. This consideration will prompt 
you to go on, as you have begun, in adding the meek- 
ness of wisdom, and all the beauties of holiness, to 
the graces of an engaging person, and the refinements 
of a polite education. 

And might— O ! might the ensuing hints furnish 
you with the least assistance in prosecuting so de- 
sirable an end; might they contribute, in any degree, 
to establish your faith, or elevate your devotion; 
they would, then, administer to the author such a 
satisfaction, as applause cannot give, nor censure 
take away ; a satisfaction, which I should be able to 
enjoy, even in those awful moments, when all that 
captivates the eye is sinking in darkness, and every 
glory of this world disappearing for ever. 

These wishes, Madam, as they are a most agreeable 
employ of my thoughts, so they come attended with 
this additional circumstance of pleasure, that they 
are also the sincerest expression of that very great 
esteem with which 

I am, Madam, 

Your most obedient. 

Most humble servant, 

James Hervkt 



PREFACE. 



The first of these occasional Meditations begs leave 
to remind my readers of their latter end ; and would 
invite them to set, not their houses only, but, which 
is inexpressibly more needful, their souls, in order ; 
that they may be able, through all the intermediate 
stages, to look forward upon their approaching exit 
without any anxious apprehensions ; and, when the 
great change commences, may bid adieu to terres- 
trial things, with all the calmness of a cheerful re- 
signation, with all the comforts of a well-grounded 
faith. 

The other attempts to sketch out some little traces 
of the all-sufficiency of our Redeemer for the grand 
and gracious purposes of everlasting salvation; that 
a sense of his unutterable dignity, and infinite per- 
fections, may incite us to regard him with sentiments 
of the most profound veneration ; to long for an as- 
sured interest in his merits with all the ardency of 
desire ; and to trust in his powerful mediation, with 
an affiance not to be shaken by any temptations, not 
to be shared with any performances of our own. 

I flatter myself, that the thoughts conceived among 
the tombs may be welcome to the serious and hu- 
mane mind; because, as there are few who have 
not consigned the remains of some dear relations, or 
honoured friends, to those silent repositories; so 
there are none, but must be sensible, that this is the 
1* 



vi PREFACE. 

house appointed for all living; and that they them- 
selves are shortly to remove into the same solemn 
mansions. And who would not turn aside for a 
while, from the most favourite amusements, to view 
the place where his once-loved companions lie ? 
Who would not sometimes survey those apartments, 
where he himself is to take up an abode, till time shall 
be no more ? 

As to the other little essay, may I not humbly pre- 
sume, that the very subject itself will recommend the 
remarks ? For, who is not delighted with the pros- 
pect of the blooming creation, and even charmed 
with the delicate attractions of flowers ? Who does 
not covet to assemble them in the garden, or wear 
them in a nosegay ? Since this is a passion so univer- 
sal, who would not be willing to render it produc- 
tive of the sublimest improvement ? This piece o 
holy frugality I have ventured to suggest, and eiuiea 
voured to exemplify, in the second letter ; that, while 
the hand is cropping the transient glories of a flowei . 
the attentive mind may be enriching itself with solid 
and lasting good. And I cannot but entertain some 
pleasing hopes, that the nicest taste may receive and 
relish religious impressions, when they are conveyed 
by such lovely monitors ; when the instructive les- 
sons are found, not on the leaves of some formidable 
folio, but stand legible on the fine sarcenet of a 
narcissus ; when they savour not of the lamp and 
recluse, but come breathing from the fragant bosom 
of a jonquil. 



SKETCH 
OF THE AUTHOR'S LIFE. 



James Hervey was bom at Hardingstone, a village 
one mile from Northampton, on February 26, 1713-14. 
His father, who was minister of the parish of Colling- 
tree, sent him to the free grammar-school at North- 
ampton ; and next to Lincoln-college, Oxford, where 
he took his bachelor's degree. In 1733 he left Oxford 
and became curate to his father, and next at Dum- 
mer, in Hampshire : from whence he went to Bide- 
ford, in Devonshire, where he continued about five 
years, and was much liked by the parishioners. At 
this place he wrote his celebrated ' Meditations 
xmong the Tombs,' and ' Reflections in a Flower- 
Garden.' In 1743, he returned to Northamptonshire, 
and officiated as curate to his father, who was now 
rector of Weston-Favel, and whom he succeeded in 
that living and Collingtree, in 1752 ; on which occa- 
sion he took his master's degree at Cambridge. His 
principles were Calvinistic, but his piety was of the 
most cheerful and useful description. He died on 
Christmas-day, 1758. Besides his Meditations, in 
2 vols, he published * Theron and Aspasio; or, a 
Series of Dialogues and Letters,' 3 vols. ; Remarks on 
Lord Bobngbroke ; and some Sermons. After his 
death appeared his Life and Letters, 2 vols. ; Eleven 
Letters to Wesley ; Letters to Lady Shirley ; and 
Miscellaneous Letters. 



viii VERSES TO MR. HERVEY. 

With equal dignity, now see him rise 
To paint the sable horrors of the skies : 
When all the wide horizon lies in shade; 
And midnight phantoms sweep along the glade: 
All nature hush'd— a solemn silence reigns, 
And scarce a breeze disturbs the sleeping plains. 

Last, yet not less, in majesty of phrase, 
He draws the full-orb'd moon's expansive blaze ; 
The waving meteors, trembling from on high, 
With all the mute artill'ry of the sky : 
Systems on systems, which in order roll, 
And dart their lambent beams from pole to pole. 

Hail, mighty genius ! whose excursive soul 
No bounds confine, no limits can control : 
Whose eye expatiates, and whose mind can rove, 
Through earth, through ether, and the realms above 
From things inanimate can direct the rod, 
In just gradation, to ascend to God. 
Taught by thy lines, see hoary age grow wise, 
And all the rebel in his bosom dies : 
E'en thoughtless youth in luxury of blood, 
Fly the infectious world, and dare— be good : 
Thy sacred truths shall reach th* impervious heart ; 
Discord shall cease, disease forget to smart; 
E'en malice love, and calumny commend ; 
Pride beg an alms, and av'rice turn a friend. 

Centered in Christ, who fires the soul within, 
The flesh shall know no pain ; the soul no sin ; 
E'en in the terrors of expiring breath, 
We bless the friendly stroke, and live— in death. 

Oxford, April 28, 1748. 



VERSES 

TO MR. HERVEY, ON HIS MEDITATIONS. 

In these lov'd scenes, what rapt'rous graces shine, 
Live in each leaf, and breathe in ev'ry line ! 
Wh3t sacred beauties beam throughout the whole, 
To charm the sense, and steal upon the soul ! 
In classic elegance, and thoughts— his own. 
We see our faults as in a mirror shown : 
Each truth, in glaring characters exprest, 
All own the twin resemblance in their breast: 
His easy periods, and persuasive page, 
At once amend, and entertain the age: 
Nature's wide fields all open to his view, 
He charms the mind with something ever new : 
On fancy's pinions his advent'rous soul 
Wantons unbounded, and pervades the whole : 
From death's dark caverns in the earth below, 
To spheres, where planets roll, or comets glow. 

See him explore, with more than human eyes, 
The dreary sepulchre, where Granville lies : 
Converse with stones, or monumental brass, 
The rude inscriptions,— or the painted glass, 
To gloomy vaults descend with awful tread, 
And view the silent mansions of the dead. 

To gayer scenes he next adapts his lines, 
Where lavish'd nature in embroid'ry shines : 
The jess'mine groves, the woodbine's fragrant bow'n 
With all the painted family of flow'rs: 
There, Sacharissa ! in each fleeting grace, 
Read all the transient honours of thy face. 



CONTENTS. 



Meditations among the Tombs I 

Reflections on a Flower-Garden 73 

A Descant upon Creation 157 

Contemplations on the Night 191 

Contemplations on the Starry Heavens 261 

A Winter-Piece 351 



MEDITATIONS 
AMONG THE TOMBS. 



IN A LETTER TO A LADY. 



Travelling lately into Cornwall, I happened to 
alight at a considerable village in that county ; where, 
finding myself under an unexpected necessity of 
staying a little, I took a walk to the church.* The 
doors, like the heaven to which they lead, were wide 
open, and readily admitted an unworthy stranger. 
Pleased with the opportunity, I resolved to spend a 
few minutes under the sacred roof. 

In a situation so retired and awful, I could not 
avoid falling into a train of meditations, serious and 
mournfully pleasing; which, I trust, were in some 
degree profitable to me, while they possessed and 
warmed my thoughts : and, if they may administer 
any satisfaction to you, madam, now they are recol- 

* I had named, in some former editions, a particular church, 
viz. Kilkhanipton ; where several of the monuments, des- 
cribed in the following pages, really exist. But as J thought 
it convenient to mention some cases here which are not ac- 
cording- to the best of mv remembrance, referred to in any 
s there: I have now omitted the name, that i: 
: - u * operate more freely, a—' tU 
onsulted, without any 
from truth and fact. 



2 MEDITATIONS 

lected, and committed to writing, I shall receive a 

fresh pleasure from them. 

It was an ancient pile: reared by hands that, ages 
ago, wese mouldered into dust. Situate in the centre 
of a large burial-ground ; remote from all the noise 
and hurry of tumultuous life ; the body spacious ; the 
structure lofty ; the whole magnificently plain. A row 
of regular pillars extended themselves through the 
midst ; supporting the roof with simplicity, and with 
Jignity. The light, that passed through the windows, 
seemed to shed a kind of luminous obscurity, which 
gave every object a grave and venerable air. The 
deep silence, added to the gloomy aspect, and both 
heightened by the loneliness of the place, greatly in- 
creased the solemnity of the scene. A sort of reli- 
gions dread stole insensibly upon my mind, while I 
advanced, all pensive and thoughtful, along the in- 
most aisle: such a dread, as hushed every ruder 
passion, and dissipated all the gay images of an al- 
luring world. 

Having adored that Eternal Majesty, who, far from 
being confined to temples made with hands, has 
heaven for his throne, and the earth for his footstool, 
I took particular notice of a handsome altar-piece; 
presented, as I was afterwards informed, by the 
master-builders of Stow ;* out of gratitude, I pre- 
sume, to that gracious God, who carried them through 
tiieir work, and enabled them to ' bring forth their 
topstone with joy.' 

* The name of a grand seat, belonging to the late Earl of 

Bath ; remarkable formerly for its excellent »oi kinanship and 
elegant furniture ; once the principal resort of the quality and 
gentry of the west; but now demolished, laid even with the 
ground and scarce one stone left upon another: so that corn 
may grow, or nettles spring, where Stow lately stood. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 3 

Oh ! how amiable is gratitude ! especially when 
It has the Supreme Benefactor for its object. I have 
always looked upon gratitude as the most exalted 
principle that can actuate the heart of man. It has 
something noble, disinterested, and (if I may be al- 
lowed the term) generously devout. Repentance 
indicates our nature fallen, and prayer turns chiefly 
upon a regard to one's self. But the exercises of 
gratitude subsisted in Paradise, when there was no 
fault to deplore ; and will be perpetuated in heaven, 
when « God shall be all in all.' 

The language of this sweet temper is, ' I am un- 
speakably obliged : what return shall I make ?' And 
surely, it is no improper expression of an unfeigned 
thankfulness, to decorate our Creator's courts, and 
beautify ' the place where his honour dwelleth.' Of 
old, the habitation of his feet was glorious : let it not, 
now, be sordid or contemptible. It must grieve an 
ingenuous mind, and be a reproach to any people, to 
have their own houses wainscotted with cedar, and 
painted with vermilion; while the temple of the 
Lord of hosts is destitute of every decent ornament. 

Here I recollected, and was charmed with Solo- 
mon's fine address to the Almighty, at the dedication 
of his famous temple. With immense charge, and 
exquisite skill, he had erected the most rich and 
finished structure, that the sun ever saw. Yet upon 
a review of his work, and a reflection on the tran- 
scendent perfections of the Godhead, how he exalts 
the one, and abases the other ! The building was 
too glorious for the mightiest monarch to inhabit; 
too sacred, for unhallowed feet even to enter ; yet, 
infinitely too mean for the Deity to reside in. It was, 
and the royal worshipper acknowledged it to be, a 



4 MEDITATIONS 

most marvellous vouchsafement in uncreated Excel- 
lency, to ' put his name there.' The whole passage 
breathes such a delicacy, and is animated with such 
a sublimity of sentiment, that I cannot persuade my- 
self to pass on, without repeating it. « But will God 
indeed dwell on earth ? Behold ! the heaven, and 
heaven of heavens, cannot contain thee ; how much 
less this house that I have builded !'* Incomparable 
saying! worthy the wisest of men. Who would not 
choose to possess such an elevated devotion, rather 
than to own all the glittering materials of that sump- 
tuous edifice? 

We are apt to be struck with admiration at the 
stateliness and grandeur of a masterly performance 
in architecture. And, perhaps, on a sight of the an- 
cient sanctuary, should have made the superficial ob- 
servation of the disciples ; « What manner of stones, 
and what buildings are here?' But what a nobler 
turn of thought, and juster taste of things, does it 
discover, to join with Israel's king, in celebrating the 
condescension of the Divine Inhabitant ! that the 
High and Lofty One, who fills immensity with his 
glory, should, in a peculiar manner, fix his abode 
there ! should there manifest an extraordinary degree 
of his benedictive presence; permit sinful mortals to 
approach his majesty; and promise ' to make them 
joyful in his house of prayer !' This should more sen- 
sibly affect our hearts, than the most curious arrange- 
nent of stones can delight our eyes. 

Nay, the everlasting God does not disdain to dwell 
in our souls by his Holy Spirit ; and to make even 
our bodies his temple. Tell me, ye that frame cri- 
tical judgments, and balance nicely the distinction of 
• l Kings viii. 27. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 5 

things ; ' is this most astonishing, or most rejoicing ?' 
He humbleth himself, the Scripture assures us, even 
to behold the things that are in heaven.* 'Tis a 
most condescending favour, if he pleases to take the 
least approving notice of angels and archangels, when 
they bow down in homage from their celestial thrones. 
Will he then graciously regard, will he be united, to 
poor, polluted, breathing dust ? Unparalleled honour ! 
Invaluable privilege ! Be this my portion, and I shall 
not covet crowns, nor envy conquerors. 

But let me remember, what a sanctity of disposi- 
tion, and uprightness of conversation, so exalted a 
relation demands: remember this, 'and rejoice with 
trembling.' Durst I commit any iniquity, while I 
tread these hallowed courts ? Could the Jewish High 
Priest allow himself in any known transgression, 
while he made that solemn yearly entrancef into the 
Holy of Holies, and stood before the immediate pre- 
sence of Jehovah? No, truly. In such circumstances, 
a thinking person must shudder at the most remote 
solicitation to any wilful offence. T should now lie 
shocked at the least indecency of behaviour, and am 
apprehensive of every appearance of evil. And why 
do we not carry this holy jealousy into all our ordi- 
nary life > Why do we not, in every place, reverence 
ourselves; as persons dedicated to the Divinity, as 
living temples of the Godhead? For, if we are real, 
and not merely nominal Christians, the God of gicry, 
according to his own promise,! dwells in us, and 
walks in us. O ! that this one doctrine of our religion 
might operate, with an abiding efficacy, upon our 
consciences ! It would be instead of a thousand laws, 
to regulate our conduct ; instead of a thousand mo- 

* Psal. exiii. 6. t Heb. is. 7. I 2 Cor. >i. 16. 
2* 



6 MEDITATIONS 

tives, to quicken us in holiness. Under the influence 
of such a conviction, we should study to maintain a 
purity of intention ; a dignity of action ; and to walk 
worthy of that transcendently majestic Being, who 
admits us to a fellowship with himself, and with his 
Son Jesus Christ. 

The next thing, which engaged my attention, was 
the lettered floor. The pavement, somewhat like 
Ezekiel's roll, was written over from one end to the 
other. I soon perceived the comparison to hold good 
in another respect ; and the inscriptions to be matter 
of * mourning, lamentation, and woe.'* They seemed 
to court my observation ; silently inviting me to read 
them. And what would these dumb monitors inform 
me of? « That, beneath their little circumferences, 
were deposited such and such pieces of clay, which 
once lived, and moved, and talked : that they had 
received a charge to preserve their names, and were 
the remaining trustees of their memory.' 

Ah! said I, is such my situation? The adorabLs 
Creator around me, and the bones of my fellow- 
creatures under me ! Surely, then, I have great reason 
to cry out with the revering patriarch, how dreadful 
is this place !f Seriousness and devotion become this 
house for ever. May I never enter it lightly or irre- 
verently ; but with a profound awe, and godly fear ! 

O ! that they were wise !£ said the inspired penman. 
It was his last wish for his dear people. He breathed 
it out, and gave up the ghost. But what is wisdom ? 
It consists not in refined speculations, accurate re- 
searches into nature, or an universal acquaintance 
with history. The divine lawgiver settles this im- 
portant point, in his next aspiration : O ! that they 

* Ezek. ii. 10. t Gen. xxviii. 17 I Deut. xxxii. 29. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 7 

understood this ! that they had right apprehensions 
of their spiritual interest and eternal concerns! that 
they had eyes to discern, and inclinations to pursue, 
the things which belong to their peace ! But how shall 
they attain this valuable knowledge? I send them 
not, adds the illustrious teacher, to turn over all the 
volumes of literature: they may acquire, and much 
more expeditiously, this science of life, by consider- 
ing their latter end. This spark of heaven is often 
lost, under the glitter of pompous erudition; but 
shines clearly in the gloomy mansions of the tomb . 
drowned in this gentle whisper, amidst the noise of 
secular affairs; but speaks distinctly in the retire- 
ment of serious contemplation. Behold ! how pro- 
videntially I am brought to the school of wisdom !* 
The grave is the most faithful master; and these 
instances of mortality the most instructive lessons. 
Come then, calm attention, and compose my thoughts ; 
come, thou celestial Spirit, and enlighten my mind ; 
that I may so peruse these awful pages, as to become 
' wise unto salvation.' 

Examining the records of mortality, I found the 
memorials of a promiscuous multitude. They were 
huddled, at least they rested together, without any 
regard to rank or seniority. None were ambitious 
of the uppermost rooms, or chief seats, in this house 
of mourning. None entertained fond and eager ex- 
pectations of being honourably greeted, in their 

* The man riow wise, who, sick of gaudy scenes, 
Is led by choice to take his fav'rite walk 
Beneath death's gloomy, silent, cypress shades, 
Unpierced by vanity's fantastic raj ! 
To read his monuments, to weisrli his dust, 
Visit his vaults, and dwell among the toinhs ! 

Night Thoughts. 



8 MEDITATIONS 

darksome cells. The man of years and experience, 
reputed as an oracle in his generation, was content 
to lie down at the feet of a babe. In this house ap- 
pointed for all living, the servant was equally accom- 
modated, and lodged in the same story with his 
master. The poor indigent lay as softly, and slept 
as soundly, as the most opulent possessor. All the 
distinction that subsisted, was, a grassy hillock, 
bound with osiers ; or a sepulchral stone, ornamented 
with imagery. 

Why then, said my working thoughts, O ! why 
should we raise such a mighty stir about superiority 
and precedence; when the next remove will reduce 
us all to a state of equal meanness ? Why should we 
exalt ourselves, or debase others ; since we must all, 
one day, be upon a common level, and blended to- 
gether in the same undistinguished dust ? O ! that 
this consideration might humble my own and others' 
pride, and sink our imaginations as low, as our habi- 
tations will shortly be ! 

Among these confused relics of humanity, there 
are, without doubt, persons of contrary interests, and 
contradicting sentiments. But death, like some able 
Daysman, has laid his hand on the contending par- 
ties; and brought all their differences to an amiable 
conclusion. Here enemies, sworn enemies, dwell 
together in unity. They drop every imbittered 
thought, and forget that they once were foes. Per- 
haps their crumbling bones mix, as they moulder: 
and those who, while they lived, stood aloof in irre- 
concilable variance, here fall into mutual embraces, 
and even incorporate with each other in the grave. 
O ! that we might learn from these friendly ashes, 
not to perpetuate the memory of injuries, not to fo- 



AMONG THE TOMBS 9 

merit the fever of resentment, nor cherish the turbu- 
lence of passion ; that there may be as little animo- 
sity and disagreement in the land of the living, as 
there is in the congregation of the dead ! But I sus- 
pend for a while such general observations, and ad- 
dress myself to a more particular inquiry. 

Yonder white stone, emblem of the innocence it 
covers, informs the beholder of one, who breathed 
out its tender soul, almost in the instant of receiving 
it. There, the peaceful infant, without so much as 
knowing what labour and vexation mean, * lies still 
and is quiet; it sleeps and is at rest.'* Staying only 
tc wash away its native impurity in the laver of re- 
generation, it bid a speedy adieu to time, and ter- 
restrial things. What did the little hasty sojourner 
find so forbidding and disgustful in our upper world, 
to occasion its precipitant exit ? 'Tis written, indeed, 
of its suffering Saviour, that when he had tasted the 
vinegar mingled with gall, he would not drink.-f 
And did our new-come stranger begin to sip the cup 
of life; but, perceiving the bitterness, turn away its 
head, and refuse the draught? Was this the cause, 
why the wary babe only opened its eyes ; just looked 
on the light; and then withdrew into the more in- 
viting regions of undisturbed repose ? 

Happy voyager ! no sooner launched, than arrived 
at the haven ! But more eminently happy they, 
who have passed the waves, and weathered all the 
storms of a troublesome and dangerous world ! who, 
* through many tribulations, have entered into the 
kingdom of heaven ;' and thereby brought honour to 
their divine Convoy, administered comfort to the 

* Job iii. 1 ■( Matt, xxvii. 34. 



10 MEDITATIONS 

companions of their toil, and left an instructive ex* 

ample to succeeding pilgrims. 

Highly favoured probationer ! accepted, without 
being exercised ! It was thy peculiar privilege, not 
to feel the slightest of those evils, which oppress thy 
surviving kindred ; which frequently fetch groans 
from the most manly fortitude, or most elevated faith. 
The arrows of calamity, barbed with anguish, are 
often fixed deep in our choicest comforts. The fiery 
darts of temptation, shot from the hand of hell, are 
always flying in showers around our integrity. To 
thee, sweet babe, both these distresses and dangers 
are alike unknown. 

Consider this, ye mourning parents, and dry up 
your tears. Why should you lament that your little 
ones are crowned with victory, before the sword is 
drawn, or the conflict begun ? Perhaps the Supreme 
Disposer of events foresaw some inevitable snare of 
temptation forming, or some dreadful storm of ad- 
versity impending. And why should you be so dis- 
satisfied with that kind precaution; which housed 
your pleasant plant, and removed into shelter a 
tender flower, before the thunders roared ; before the 
lightnings flew; before the tempest poured its rage? 
O remember ! they are not lost, but taken away from 
the evil to coine.* 

At the same time, let survivors, doomed to bear 
the heat and burden of the day, for their encourage- 
ment reflect, that it is more honourable to have en- 
tered the .Uis, and to have fought the good fight, 
before they come off conquerors. They who have 
borne the cro.i, a.:i submitted to afflictive provi- 
dences, with a cheerful resignation; have girded up 
* Isa. hii. I. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 11 

the loins of their mind, and performed their Master's 
will, with an honest and persevering fidelity; these, 
having glorified their Redeemer on earth, will, pro- 
bably, be as stars of the first magnitude in heaven. 
They will shine with brighter beams, be replenished 
with stronger joys, in their Lord's everlasting king- 
dom. 

Here lies the grief of a fond mother, and the 
blasted expectation of an indulgent father. The 
youth grew up, like a well-watered plant; he shot 
deep, rose high, and bid fair for manhood. But just 
as the cedar began to tower, and promised, ere long, 
to be the pride of the wood, and prince among the 
neighbouring trees— behold ! the axe is laid unto the 
root; the fatal blow struck; and all its branching 
honours tumbled to the dust. And did he fall alone ? 
No, the hopes of his father that begat him, and the 
pleasing prospects of her that bare him, fell, and 
were crushed together with him. 

Doubtless, it would have pierced one's heart, to 
have beheld the tender parents, following the breath- 
less youth to his long home. Perhaps, drowned in 
tears, and all overwhelmed with sorrows, they stood, 
like weeping statues, on this very spot. Methinks, 
I see the deeply-distressed mourners attending the 
sad solemnity. How they wring their hands, and 
pour floods from their eyes ! Is it fancy ? or do I 
really hear the passionate mother, in an agony of 
affliction, taking the final leave of the darling of her 
soul? Dumb she remained, while the awful obse- 
quies were performing ; dumb with grief, and lean- 
ing upon the partner of her woes. But now the in- 
ward anguish struggles for vent; it grows too big 
to be repressed. She advances to the brink of the 



12 MEDITATIONS 

grave. All her soul is in her eyes. She fastens one 
more look upon the dear doleful object, before the 
pit shuts its mouth upon him. And as she looks, 
she cries, — in broken accents, interrupted by many 
a rising sob, she cries—* Farewell, my son ! my son ! 
my only beloved ! would to God I had died for thee ' 
Farewell, my child; and farewell all my earthly 
happiness ! I shall never more see good, in the land 
of the living. Attempt not to comfort me. I will 
go mourning, all my days, till my gray hairs come 
down, with sorrow, to the grave.' 

From this afflicting representation, let parents be 
convinced, how highly it concerns them to cultivate 
the morals, and secure the immortal interests of their 
children. If you really love the offspring of your 
own bodies ; If your bowels yearn over those amiable 
pledges of conjugal endearment ; spare no pains, give 
all diligence, I entreat you, to ' bring them up in 
the nurture and admonition of the Lord;' then, may 
you have joy in their life, or consolation in their 
death. If their span is prolonged, their unblameable 
and useful conduct will be the staff of your age, 
and a balm for declining nature. Or, if the number 
of their years be cut off in the midst; you may 
commit their remains to the dust, with much the 
same comfortable expectations, as you send the sur- 
vivors to place? of genteel education. You may com- 
mit them to the dust, with cheering hopes of receiving 
them again to your arms, inexpressibly improved in 
every noble and endearing accomplishment. 

'Tis certainly a severe trial ; and much more af- 
flictive than I am able to imagine* to resign a lovely 
blooming creature, sprung from your own loins, to 
the gloomy recesses of corruption. Thus to resign 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 13 

him, after haviug been long dandled upon your knees, 
united to your affections by a thousand ties of ten- 
derness, and now become both the dehgnt of your 
eyes, and the support of your family ! To have such 
a one torn from your bosom, and thrown into dark- 
ness; doubtless, it must be like a dagger in your 
hearts. But O ! how much more cutting to you, 
and confounding to the child, to have the soul sepa- 
parated from God ; and, for shameful ignorance, or 
early impiety, transmitted to places of eternal tor- 
ment ! How would it aggravate your distress, and 
add a distracting emphasis to all your sighs, if you 
should follow the pale corpse with these bitter reflec- 
tions ! « This dear creature, though long ago capable 
of knowing good from evil, is gone out of the world, 
before it had learned the great design of commg into 
it, A short-lived momentary existence, it received 
from me; but no good instructions, no holy admoni- 
tions, nothing to further its well-being in that ever* 
lasting state, upon which it is now entered. The 
poor body is consigned to the coffin, and carried out 
to consume away in the cold and silent grave. And 
what reason have I to suppose, that the precious soul 
is in a better condition ? May I not justly fear, that, 
sentenced by the righteous Judge, it is going, or 
gone away, into the plains of endless punishment ? 
Perhaps, while I am bewailing its untimely departure, 
it may be cursing, in outer darkness, that ever to be 
deplored, that most calamitous day, when it was born 
of such a careless, ungodly parent as I have been.' 

Nothing, I think, but the gnawings of that worm 
which never dies, can equal the anguish of these 
self-condemning thoughts. The tortures of a rack 
must be an easy suffering, compared with the stings 



14 MEDITATIONS 

and horrors of such a remorse. How earnestly do 
I wish, that as many as are intrusted with the ma- 
nagement of children, would take timely care to pre- 
vent these scourges of conscience ; by endeavouring 
to conduct their mincU into an early knowledge of 
Christ, and a cordial love of his truth ! 

On this hand is lodged one, whose sepulchral stone 
tells a most pitiable tale indeed ! Well may the little 
images, reclined over the sleeping ashes, hang down 
their heads with that pensive air ! None can consider 
so mournful a story, without feeling some touches 
of sympathizing concern. His age twenty-eight; 
his death sudden ; himself cut down in the prime of 
life, amidst all the vivacity and vigour of manhood ; 
while « his breasts were full of milk, and his bones 
moistened with marrow.' Probably he entertained 
no apprehensions of the evil hour. And indeed who 
could have suspected, that so bright a sun should go 
down at noon ? To human appearance, his hill stood 
strong. Length of days seemed written in his san- 
guine countenance. He solaced himself with the 
prospect of a long, long series of earthly satisfac- 
tions. When lo ! an unexpected stroke de-cends ! 
descends from that mighty arm, which « overturneth 
the mountains by their roots ; and crushes the ima- 
ginary hero, before the moth;'* as quickly, and 
more easily, than our fingers press such a feeble flut- 
tering insect to death. 

Perhaps, the nuptial joys were all he thought on. 
Were not such the breathings of his enamoured soul ? 
« Yet a very little while, and I shall possess the ut- 
most of my wishes. I shall call my charmer mine ; 
and, in her, enjoy whatever my heart can crave.' 
* Job It. 19. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 15 

In the midst of such enchanting views, had some 
faithful friend but softly reminded him of an opening 
grave, and the end of all things ; how unseasonable 
would he have reckoned the admonition ! Yet, 
though all warm with life, and rich in visionary 
bliss, he was even then tottering upon the brink of 
both. Dreadful vicissitude ! to have the bridal fes- 
tivity turned into the funeral solemnity ! Deplorable 
misfortune ! to be shipwrecked in the very haven ! 
and to perish even in sight of happiness ! What a 
memorable proof is here of the frailty of man, in his 
best estate! Look, O! look on this monument, ye 
gay and careless ! Attend to this date; and boast no 
more of to-morrow I 

Who can tell, but the bride-maids, girded with 
gladness, had prepared the marriage-bed ? had decked 
it with the richest covers, and dressed it in pillows 
of down ? When — oh ' trust not in youth, or strength, 
or in any thing mortal ; for there is nothing certain, 
nothing to be depended on, beneath the unchange- 
able God — Death, relentless Death, is making him 
another kind of bed in the dust of the earth. Unto 
this he must be conveyed, not with a splendid pro- 
cession of joyous attendants ; but stretched in the 
gloomy hearse, and followed by a train of mourners. 
On this he must take up a lonely lodging, nor ever 
be released, • till the heavens are no more.' In vain 
does the consenting fair one put on her ornaments, 
and expect her spouse. Did she not, like Sicera's 
mother, look out of the lattice ; chide the delays of 
her beloved ; and wonder ' why his chariot was so 
long in coming?' little thinking, that the intended 
bridegroom had for ever done with transitory things' 
that now everlasting cares employ his mind, without 



16 MEDITATIONS 

one single remembrance of his lovely Lucinda ! Go, 
disappointed virgin ! go, mourn the uncertainty of 
all created bliss ! Teach thy soul to aspire after a 
sure and immutable felicity ! For the once gay and 
gallant Fidelio sleeps in other embraces ; even in the 
icy arms of death ! forgetful, eternally forgetful of 
the world and thee ! 

Hitherto, one is tempted to exclaim against the 
king of terrors, and call him capriciously cruel. He 
seems, by beginning at the wrong end of the register, 
to have inverted the laws of nature. Passing over 
the couch of decrepit age, he has nipped infancy 
in its bud ; blasted youth in its bloom ; and torn 
up manhood in its full maturity. Terrible indeed 
are these providences, yet not unsearchable the 
counsels : 

For us they sicken, and for us they die.* 

Such strokes must not only grieve the relatives, 
but surprise the whole neighbourhood. They sound 
a powerful alarm to heedless dreaming mortals, and 
are intended as a remedy for our carnal security. 
Such passing-bells inculcate loudly our Lord's ad- 
monition; « Take ye heed, watch, and pray : for ye 
know not when the time is.' We nod, like intoxi- 
cated creatures, upon the very verge of a tremendous 
precipice. These astonishing dispensations are the 
kind messengers of heaven, to rouse us from our su- 
pineness, and quicken us into timely circumspection. 
I need not, surely, accommodate them with language, 
nor act as their interpreter. Let every one s con- 
science be awake, and this will appear their awful 
meaning; • O ! ye sons of men, in the midst of life 

* Night Thoughts. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 17 

you are in death. No state, no circumstances can 
ascertain your preservation a single moment. So 
strong is the tyrant's arm, that nothing can resist its 
force; so true his aim, that nothing can elude the 
blow. Sudden as lightning, sometimes, is his arrow 
launched : and wounds, and kills, in the twinkling of 
an eye. Never promise yourselves safety in any expe- 
dient, but constant preparation. The fatal shafts fly 
so promiscuously, that none can guess the next vic- 
tim. Therefore, be ye always ready : for in such an 
hour as ye think not, the final summons comeih.' 

Be ye always ready : for in such an hour as ye 
think not— Important admonition! Methiuks, it 
reverberates from sepulchre to sepulchre; and ad- 
dresses me with line upon line, precept upon precept. 
The reiterated warning, I acknowledge, is too needful ; 
may co-operating grace render it effectual ! The mo- 
mentous truth, though worthy to be engraved on the 
tables of a most tenacious memory, is but slightly 
sketched on the transient flow of passion. We see our 
neighbours fall ; we turn pale at the shock ; and feel, 
perhaps, a trembling dread. No sooner are they 
removed from our sight; but, driven in the whirl of 
business, or lulled in the languors of pleasure, we 
forget the providence, and neglect its errand. The 
impression made on our unstable minds is like the 
trace of an arrow through the penetrated air, or the 
path of a keel in the furrowed wave. Strange stu- 
pidity! To cure it, another monitor bespeaks me 
from a neighbouring stone. It contains the narrative 
of an unhappy mortal, snatched from his friends, and 
hurried to the awful bar, without leisure, either to 
take a last farewell of the one, or to put up so much 
as a single prayer preparatory for the other : killed, 
3* 



18 MEDITATIONS 

according to the usual expression, by a sudden stroke 

of casualty. 

Was it then a random stroke? Doubtless, the 
blow came from an aiming, though invisible hand. 
God presideth over the armies of heaven; God ruleth 
among the inhabitants of the earth ; and God con- 
ducteth what men call Chance. Nothing, nothing 
comes to pass through a blind and undiscerning 
fatality. If accidents happen, they happen accord- 
ing to the exact foreknowledge, and conformably to 
the determinate counsels of Eternal Wisdom. The 
Lord, with whom are the issues of death, signs the 
warrant, and gives the high commission. The seem- 
ingly fortuitous disaster is only the agent or the in- 
strument, appointed to execute the supreme decree. 
When the king of Israel was mortally wounded, it 
seemed to be a casual shot. A certain man drew a 
bow at a venture.* At a venture, as he thought : but 
his hand was strengthened by an omnipotent aid, and 
the shaft levelled by an unerring eye. So that, what 
we term casualty, is really providence; accomplishing 
deliberate designs, but concealing its own interpo- 
sition. How comforting this reflection ! Admirably 
adapted to soothe the throbbing anguish of the 
mourners, and compose their spirits into a quiet sub- 
mission ! Excellently suited to dissipate the fears rf 
godly survivors, and create a calm intrepidity even 
amidst innumerable perils ! 

How thin is the partition between this world and 
another ! How short the transition from time to eter- 
nity ! The partition, nothing more than the breath in 
our nostrils; and the transition may be made in the 
twinkling of an eye. Poor Chrcmylus, I remember, 
• ) Kings xxii. 34. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 19 

arose from the diversion of a card-table, and dropt 
into the dwellings of darkness. One night, Corinna 
•was all gaiety in her spirits, all finery in her apparel, 
at a magnificent ball. The next night, she lay pale 
and stiff, an extended corpse, and ready to be mingled 
with the mouldering dead. Young Atticus lived 
to see his ample and commodious seat completed: 
but not to spend one joyous hour under the stately 
roof. The sashes were hung to admit the day; but 
the master's eyes are closed in endless night. The 
apartments were furnished, to invite society, or ad- 
minister repose; but their lord rests in the lower 
parts of the earth, in the solitary, silent chambers 
of the tomb. The gardens were planned, and a 
thousand elegant decorations designed; but alas! 
their intended possessor is gone down to ' the place 
of skulls ;' is gone down to the valley of the shadow 
of death. 

■\Yhile I am recollecting, many, I question not, are 
experiencing the same tragical vicissitude. The eyes 
of that sublime Being, who sits upon the circle of 
the earth, and views all its inhabitants with one com- 
prehensive glance, even now beholds many tents 
in affliction — such affliction, as overwhelmed the 
Egyptians in that fatal night, when the destroying 
angel sheathed his arrows in all the pride of their 
strength : — some, sinking to the floor from their easy 
chair, and deaf even amidst the piercing shrieks of 
their distracted relations: — some giving up the ghost, 
as they sit retired, or lie reclined under the shady 
arbour, to taste the sweets of the flowery scene: 
—some, as they sail, associated with a party of 
pleasure, along the dancing stream, and through the 
laughing meads. Nor is the grim intruder mollified, 



20 MEDITATIONS 

though wine and music flow around :— some inter- 
cepted, as they are returning home; and some in- 
terrupted, as they enter upon an important negotia- 
tion : — some arrested with the gain of injustice in 
their hands ; and some surprised, in the very act of 
lewdness, or the attempt of cruelty. 

Legions, legions of disasters, such as no prudence 
can foresee, and no care prevent, lie in wait to ac- 
complish our doom. A starting horse may throw his 
rider; may at once dash his body against the stones, 
jid fling his soul into the invisible world. A stack 
of chimneys may tumble into the street, and crush 
the unwary passenger under the ruins. Even a single 
tile, dropping from the roof, may be as fatal as the 
fall of the whole structure. So frail, so very atte- 
nuated is the thread of life, that it not only bursts 
before the storm, but breaks even at a breeze. The 
most common occurrences, those from which we sus- 
pect not the least harm, may prove the weapons of 
our destruction. A grape-stone, a despicable fly, may 
be more mortal than Goliah with all his formidable 
armour. Nay, if God give command, our very com- 
forts become killing. The air we breathe, is our 
bane; and the food we eat, the vehicle of death. 
That last enemy has unnumbered avenues for his 
approach ; yea, lies intrenched in our very bosom, 
and holds his fortress in the seat of our life. The 
crimson fluid, which distributes health, is impreg- 
nated with the seeds of death. Heat may inflame it, 
or toil oppress it; and make it destroy the parts it 
was designed to cherish. Some unseen impediment 
may obstruct its passage, or some unknown violence 
may divert its course ; in either of which cases, it acts 
the part of a poisonous draught, or a deadly stab. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 21 

Ah ! in what perils is vain life ensra<r'd ! 

What slight neglects, what trivial faults destroy 

The hardiest frame Of indolence, of toil 

We die ; of want, of superfluity. 

The all-surrounding heav'n, the vital air, 

Is big with death. 

Since then we are so liable to be dispossessed of 
this earthly tabernacle, let us look upon ourselves 
only as tenants at will; and hold ourselves in per- 
petual readiness, to depart at a moment's warning. 
Without such an habitual readiness, we are like 
wretches that sleep on the top of a mast, while a 
horrid gulf yawns, or furious waves rage, below. 
And where can be the peace, what the satisfaction, 
of sjch a state ? Whereas, a prepared condition will 
inspire a cheerfulness of temper, not to be dismayed 
by any alarming accident; and create a firmness of 
mind, not to be overthrown by the most threatening 
dangers. When the city is fortified with walls, fur- 
nished with provision, guarded by able and resolute 
troops; what have the inhabitants to fear? what 
may they not enjoy? So, just so, or rather by a 
much surer band, are connected the real taste of life, 
and the constant thought of death. 

I said, ' Our very comforts may become killing.' 
—And see the truth inscribed by the hand, sealed 
with the signet, of fate. The marble, whicn graces 
yonder pillar, informs me, that, near it, are deposited 
the remains of Sophronia, the much-lamented So- 
phronia, who died in childbed. How often does this 
calamity happen ! The branch shoots ; but the stem 
withers. The babe springs to light; but she that 
bare him, breathes her last. She gives life, but gives 
it (O pitiable consideration !) at the expense of her 
own ; and becomes, at once, a mother, and a corpse. 



22 MEDITATIONS 

Or else, perhaps, she expires in severo pangs, and 
is herself a tomb for her infant ; while the melan- 
choly complaint of a monarch's woe is the epitaph 
for them both : » The children are come to the birth, 
and there is not strength to bring forth.'* Less to 
be lamented, in my opinion, this misfortune, than 
the other. Better for the tender stranger to be 
stopped in the porch ; than to enter, only to converse 
with affliction. Better, to find a grave in the womb, 
than to be exposed on a hazardous world ; without 
the guardian of its infantile years, without the faith- 
ful guide of its youth. 

This monument is distinguished by its finer ma- 
terials, and more delicate appendages. It seems to 
have taken its model from an affluent hand ; directed 
by a generous heart; which thought it could never 
do enough for the deceased. It seems, also, to ex- 
hibit an emblematical picture of Sophronia's person 
and accomplishments. Is her beauty, or, what is 
more than beauty, her white-robed innocence, repre- 
sented by the snowy colour? the surface, smoothly 
polished, like her amiable temper and engaging man- 
ners ? the whole adorned, in a well-judged medium 
between extravagant pomp and sordid negligence, 
like her undissemb'.ed goodness, remote from the 
least ostentation, yet in all points exemplary ? But 
ah ! how vain were all these endearing charms ! How 
vain the lustre of thy sprightly eye ! How vain 
the bloom of thy bridal youth ! How vain the ho- 
nours of thy superior birth ! How unable to secure 
the lo>ely possessor from the savage violence of 
death! — How ineffectual the universal esteem of 
thy acquaintance, the fondness of thy transported 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 23 

husband, or even the spotless integrity of thy cha- 
racter, to prolong thy span, or procure thee a short 
reprieve ! — The occurrence of all these circumstances 
reminds me of those beautiful and tender lines : 

How loved, how valued once, avails thee not ; 

To whom related, or by whom begot ; 

A heap of dust alone remains of thee : 

'Tis all thou art !— and all the proud shall be !* 

Pope's Miscell. 

* These verges are inscribed on a small but elegant monu- 
ment, lately erected in the great church at Northampton, 
which, in the liieroglyphical decorations, corresponds with 
the description introduced above ; in this circumstance parti- 
cularly, that it is dedicated to the memory of an amiable wo- 
man, Mrs. Anne Stonhouse, the excellent wife of my worthy 
friend Dr. Stonhouse, who has seen all the powers of that 
healing- art, to which [ and so many others have been greatly 
indebted, failing in their attempts to preserve a life dearer 
to him than his own. 

Nee prosunt Domino, quee prosunt omnibus artes. 

No longer his all-healing art avails ; 

But ev'ry remedy its master fails. 
In the midst of this tender distress, he has sought some kind 
of consolation, even from the sepulchral marble, by teaching 
it to speak, at once, his esteem for her memory, and his ve- 
neration for that religion which she so eminently adorned. 
Nor could this be more significantly done, than by summing 
tip her character in that concise but comprehensive sentence, 
— A sincere Christian : concise enough, to be the motto for a 
mourning ring; yet as comprehensive as the most enlarged 
*phere of personal, social, and religious worth. For, what- 
soever tilings are pure; whatsoever things are lovely ; what- 
soever things are of good report; are tliey not all included in 
that grand and noble aggregate, a sincere' Christian • 

The first lines, considered in such a connexion, are won. 
derfully plaintive and pathetic : 



They sound, at least in mj ears, like the voice of sorro 
gled with admiration. The speaker seems to have be 
for a while, in melancholy contemplation : suddenly 
out into this abrupt encomium ; then melts into tea 



24 MEDITATIONS 

Yet, though unable to divert the stroke, Chris- 
tianity is sovereign to pluck out the sting of death. 

can proceed no farther. Yet, in this case how eloquent is 
silence! While it hints the universal esteem which attended, 
and the superiority of birth which distinguished, the deceased 
wife; it expresses, beyond ;t!l :l.e pomp of words, the yearn- 
ing affection, and liea'rt-fek affliction, of the surviving hus- 
band. Amids' the group of monumental marbles which are 
lavish of their panegyric, this, 1 think, resembles the incom- 
parable address of the painter, who, having place I round a 
beautiful expiring virgin her friends in all the agonies of 
grief, represented the unequalled anguish of the father with 
far greater liveliness and strength, or rather with an inex- 
pressible emphasis, bv drawing a veil o\er his face. 

If the last lines are a wide departure from the beaten track 
of our modern epitaphs, and the very reverse of their high- 
flown compliments, 

A heap of dust alone remains of thee ! 

'Tis all thou art!— and all the proud shall be ! 
they are not without a precedent, and one of the most con- 
summate kind, since they breathe the very spirit of that sacred 
elegy, in which all the heart of the hero and the friend seems 
to be dissolved : How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons 
ol war perished ! 2 Sam. i. 27. They remind the reader, of 
that awful lesson, which was originally the rated by the Su- 
preme Wisdom : Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shall re- 
turn, Gen. iii. 19. They inculcate, with all the force of the 
most convincing evidence, that solemn admonition, delivered 
by the prophet: Cease ve from man, whose breath is in his 
nostrils; for wherein is lie to be accounted of! I»a. ii. 22. 

That no reader, however inattentive, might mistake the 
sense and design of this part of the fourth line, 

'Tis all thou art! 

it is guarded above and beneath. Above, is an expanded 
book, that seems to be waved, with an air of triumph, ovei 
the emblem of death ; which we i aunot but suppose to be the 
volume of inspiration, as it exhibits a sort of abridgment of 
its whole contents in those animated words : Be ve not sloth- 
ful, but followers of them who through faith and patience in- 
herit the promises, Heb. vi. 12. Beneath, that every part 
might be pregnant with instruction, are tle-e striking relic- 
tions, worthy the consideration id" the highest proficient in 
knowledge and piety, yet obvious to the understanding of the 
most untaught reule": Life, how short! eternity, how long ! 
May my soul learn the forcible purport of this short lesson, 
in her contracted span of lime ! ai>d all eternity will not be 
too long to rejoice in having learned it. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 25 

Is not this the silent language of those lamps, which 
burn, and of that heart, which flames; of those 
palms, which flourish, and of that crown which glit- 
ters, in the well-imitated and gilded marble? Do 
they not, to the discerning eye, describe the vigi- 
lance of her faith ; the fervency of her devotion ; her 
victory over the world ; and the celestial diadem, 
which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give her 
at that day ?* 

How happy the husband, in such a sharer of his 
bed, and partner of his fortunes ! Their inclinations 
were nicely-tuned unisons, and all their conversation 
was harmony. How silken the yoke to such a pair, 
and what blessings were twisted with such bands ! 
every joy was heightened, and every care alleviated. 
Nothing seemed wanting to consummate their bliss, 
but a hopeful progeny rising around them ; that they 
might see themselves multiplied in their little ones ; 
see their mingled graces transfused into their off- 
spring ; and feel the glow of their affection augment- 
ed, by being reflected from their children. • Grant 
us this gift,' said their united prayers, * and our 
satisfactions are crowned : we request no more.' 

Alas ! how blind are mortals to future events ! 
How unable to discern what is really good ! Give 
me children, said Rachel, or else I die:f an ardour 
of impatience altogether unbecoming, and as mis- 
taken as it was unbecoming. She dies, not by the 
disappointment, but by the accomplishment, of her 
desire. If children are to parents like a flowery 
chaplet, whose beauties blossom with ornament, and 
whose odours breathe delight; death, or some fell 
misfortune, may find means to entwine themselves 
* 2 Tim. iv. 8. + Gen. xxx. 1. 



26 MEDITATIONS 

with the lovely wreath. Whenever our souls are 
poured out, with passionate importunity, after any 
inferior acquisition, it may be truly said, in the words 
of our Divine Master, Ye know not what ye ask. 
Does Providence withhold the thing that we long for ? 
It denies in mercy; and only withholds the occasion 
of our misery, perhaps the instrument of our ruin. 
With a sickly appetite, we often loathe what is whole- 
some, and hanker after our bane. Where imagina- 
tion dreams of unmingled sweets, there experience 
frequently finds the bitterness of woe. 

Therefore, may we covet immoderately neither this 
nor that form of earthly felicity ; but refer the whole 
of our condition to the choice of unerring Wisdom. 
May we learn to renounce our own will, and be ready 
to make a sacrifice of our warmest wishes, whenever 
they run counter to the good pleasure of God. For, 
indeed, as to obey his laws, is to be perfectly free; 
so, to resign ourselves to his disposal, is to establish 
our own happiness, and to be secure from fear of evil. 
Here, a small and plain stone is placed upon the 
ground ; purchased, one would imagine, from the 
little fund, and formed by the hand of frugality itself. 
Nothing costly; not one decoration added; only a 
very short inscription : and that so effaced, as to be 
scarcely intelligible. Was the depositary unfaithful 
to its trust ? Or were the letters worn by the frequent 
resort of the surviving family ; to mourn over the 
grave of a most valuable and beloved relative? For 
I perceive, upon a closer inspection, that it covers 
the remains of a father; a religious father, snatched 
from his growing offspring before they were settled 
in the world, or so much as their principles fixed by 
a thorough education. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 27 

This, sure, is the most complicated distress that 
has hitherto come under our consideration. The so- 
lemnities of such a dying chamber, are some of the 
most melting and melancholy scenes imaginable. 
There lies the affectionate husband ; the indulgent 
parent ; the faithful friend; and the generous master. 
He lies in the last extremities, and on the very point 
of dissolution. Art has done its all. The raging 
disease mocks the power of medicine. It hastens, 
with resistless impetuosity, to execute its dreadful 
errand ; to rend asunder the silver cord of life, and 
the more delicate tie of social attachment, and con- 
jugal affection. 

A servant or two, from a revering distance, cast 
many a wistful look, and condole their honoured 
master in the language of sighs. The condescending 
mildness of his commands was wont to produce an 
alacrity of obedience, and render their service a plea- 
sure. The remembrance of both imbitters their grief, 
and makes it trickle plentifully down their honest 
cheeks. His friends, who have so often shared his 
joys, and gladdened his mind with their enlivening 
converse, now are miserable comforters. A sympa- 
thizing and mournful pity is all the relief they are 
able to contribute ; unless it be augmented by thei> 
silent prayers for the Divine succour, and a word of 
consolation suggested from the Scriptures.* Those 
poor innocents, the children, crowd around the bed ; 

* Texts nf Scripture, proper for such an occasion ; con- 
taining promises of support under affliction, Lam. iii. 32. 
Heb. xii. 6. 2 Cor. iv. 17.— of I'mk-n, U.i. liii. o. i. (3. 
1 John ii. 1, 2. Acts x. 43. — of justification, Itom. v. 9. viii. 
33, 34. a Cor. v. 21.— of victory over death. Psal. xxiii. 4. 
lxxiii. 26. 1 Cor. xv. 56, 57.— of a happy resurrection, John 
vi. 40. 2 Cor. v. II. Rev. vii. 16, 17. 



28 MEDITATIONS 

drowned in tears, and almost frantic with grief, they 
sob out their little souls, and passionately cry, ' Will 
he leave us ? leave us in a helpless condition ! leave 
us, to an injurious world ?' 

These separate streams are all united in the dis- 
tressed spouse, and overwhelm her breast with an 
impetuous tide of sorrows. In her, the lover weeps ; 
the wife mourns ; and all the mother yearns. To 
her the loss is beyond measure aggravated, by months 
and years of delightful society, and exalted friend- 
ship. Where, alas! can she meet with such unsus- 
pected fidelity, or repose such unreserved confidence? 
Where find so discreet a counsellor; so improving 
an example ; and a guardian so sedulously attentive 
to the interests of herself and her children ? See ! 
how she hangs over the languishing bed ; most ten- 
derly solicitous to prolong a life, important and de- 
sirable far beyond her own. Or, if that be imprac- 
ticable, no less tenderly officious to soothe the last 
agonies of her dearer self. Her hands, trembling 
under direful apprehensions, wipe the cold dews from 
the livid cheeks; and sometimes stay the sinking 
head on her gentle arms, sometimes rest it on her 
compassionate bosom. See! how she gazes, with a 
speechless ardour, on the pale countenance, and 
meagre features. Speechless her tongue; but she 
looks unutterable things ; while all her soft passions 
throb with unavailing fondness, and her very soul 
bleeas with exquisite anguish. 

The sufferer, all patient and adoring, submits to 
the divine will ; and, by submission, becomes supe- 
rior to his affliction. He is sensibly touched with 
the disconsolate state of his attendants, and pierced 
with an anxious concern for his wife and his children: 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 29 

his wife, who will soon be a destitute widow; his 
children, who will soon be helpless orphans, * Yet, 
though cast down, not in despair.' He is greatly 
refreshed by his trust in the everlasting covenant, 
and his hope of approaching glory. Religion gives 
a dignity to distress. At each interval of ease, he 
comforts his very comforters; and suffers with all 
the majesty of woe. 

The soul, just going to abandon the tottering clay, 
collects all her force, and exerts her last efforts. The 
good man raises himself on his pillow ; extends a 
kind hand to his servants, which is bathed in tears ; 
takes an affecting farewell of his friends ; clasps his 
■wife in a feeble embrace; kisses the dear pledges of 
their mutual love; and then pours all that remains 
of life, and of strength, in the following words : — ' I 
die, my dear children; but, God, the everlasting God, 
will be with you. Though you lose an earthly parent, 
you have a Father in heaven, who lives for evermore. 
Nothing, nothing but an unbelieving heart, and irre- 
ligious life, can ever separate you from the regards 
of his providence — from the endearments of his love.' 

He could proceed no farther. His heart was full, 
but utterance failed. After a short pause, with dif- 
ficulty, great difficulty, he added: • You, the dear 
partner of my soul, you are now the only protector 
of our orphans. I leave you under a weight of cares. 
But God, who defendeth the cause of the widow — 
God, whose promise is faithfulness and truth — God 
hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.* 
This revives my drooping spirits— let this support 
the wife of my bosom— and now, O Father of Com- 
passions, into thy hands I commend my spirit— en- 
* Heb. xiii. 5. 
4* 



30 MEDITATIONS 

couraged by thy promised goodness, I leave my 

fatherless ' 

Here, he fainted ; fell back upon the bed ; and lay 
for some minutes bereft of his senses. As a taper, 
upon the very point of extinction, is sometimes sud- 
denly rekindled, and leaps into a quivering flame ; fo 
life, before it totally expired, gave a parting struggle, 
and once more looked abrop.d from the opening eye- 
lids. He would fain have spoke- fain have uttered 
the sentence he began. More than once he essayed; 
but the organs of speech were become like a broken 
vessel; and nothing but the obstructing phlegm rat- 
tled in his throat. His aspect, however, spoke affec- 
tion inexpressible. With all the father, all the hus- 
band still living in his looks, he takes one more view 
of those dear children, whom he had often beheld 
with a parental triumph. He turns his dying eyes 
on that beloved woman, whom he never beheld but 
with a glow of delight. Fixed in this posture, amidst 
smiles of love, and under a gleam of heaven, they 
shine out their last. 

Upon this, the silent sorrow bursts into loud la- 
ments. They weep, and refuse to be comforted ; 
till some length of time had given vent to the excess 
of passion, and the consolations of religion had 
stanched their bleeding woes. Then the afflicted 
family search for the sentence, which fell unfinished 
from those loved, those venerable and pious lips. 
They find it recorded by the prophet Jeremiah, con- 
taining the direction of Infinite Wisdom, and the pro- 
mise of unbounded Goodness; Leave thy fatherless 
children; I will preserve them al've; and let thy 
widows trust in me.* This, now is the conifcrt of 
* Jtieni. xiix. II. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 31 

their life, and the joy of their heart. They treasure 
it up in their memories. It is the best of legacies, 
and an inexhaustible fund ; a fund which will supply 
all their wants, by entailing the blessing of heaven 
on all their honest labours. They are rich, they are 
happy, in this sacred pledge of the divine favour. 
They fear no evil; they want no good; because God 
is their portion, and their guardian God. 

No sooner turned from one memento of my own, 
and memorial of another's decease, but a second, a 
third, a long succession of these melancholy monitors 
crowd upon my sight. That which has fixed my 
observation, is one of a more grave and sable aspect 
than the former. I suppose it preserves the relics 
of a more aged person. One would conjecture, that 
he made somewhat of a figure in his station among 
the living; as his monument does among the funeral 
marbles. Let me drasv near, and inquire of the 
stone, ' who, or what, is beneath its surface.' I am 
informed, he was once the owner of a considerable 
estate; which was much improved by his own ap- 
plication and management : that he left the world in 
the busy period of life, advanced a little beyond the 
meridian. 

Probably, replied my musing mind, one of those 
indefatigable drudges, who rise early, late take rest, 
and eat the bread of carefulness; not to secure the 
loving-kindness of the Lord ; not to make provision 
for any reasonable necessity; but only to amass to. 
gether ten thousand times more than they can pos- 
sibly use. Did he not lay schemes for enlarging his 
fortune, and aggrandizing his family ? Did he not 
purpose to join field to field, and add house to house; 
till his possessions were almost as vast as his desires ? 



32 MEDITATIONS 

That, then, he would sit down, and enjoy what he 
had acquired ; breathe awhile from his toilsome pur- 
suit of things temporal, and perhaps, think a little of 
things eternal. 

But see the folly of worldly wisdom ! How silly, 
how childish, is the sagacity of (what is called) 
manly and masterly prudence ; when it contrives 
more solicitously for time, than it provides for eter- 
nity ! How strangely infatuated are those subtle 
heads, which weary themselves in concerting mea- 
sures for phantoms of a day ; and scarce bestow a 
thought on everlasting realities! When every wheel 
moves on smoothly ; when all the well-disposed dis- 
posed designs are ripening apace for execution ; and 
the long-expected crisis of enjoyment seems to ap- 
proach ; behold! God from on high laughs at the 
Babel-builder. Death touches the bubble, and it 
breaks, it drops into nothing. The cobweb, most 
finely spun indeed, but more easily dislodged, is 
swept away in an instant ; and all the abortive pro- 
jects are buried in the same grave wiih their pro- 
jector. So true is that verdict which the wisdom 
from above passes on these successful unfortunates : 
« They walk in a vain shadow, and disquiet them- 
selves in vain.'* 

Speak, ye that attended such a one in his last mi- 
nutes; ye that heard his expiring sentiments; did 
he not cry out, in the language of disappointed sen- 
suality — ' O death ! how terrible is thy approach to 
a man immersed in secular cares, and void of all con- 
cern for the never-ending hereafter ! Where, alas ! is 
the profit, where the comfort of entering deep into 
the knowledge, and of being dextrous in the dis- 
*Psal. xxsi\. 6. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 33 

patch of earthly affairs; since I have all the while 
neglected the one thing needful ! Destructive mis- 
take ! I have been attentive to every inferior inte- 
rest; I have laid myself out on the trifles of a mo- 
ment; but I have disregarded heaven; have forgot 
eternal ages O . that my days' — here, he was going 
on to breathe some fruitless wishes, or to form, I 
know not what ineffectual resolutions. But a sudden 
convulsion shook his nerves; disabled his tongue; 
and, in less than an hour, dissolved his frame. 

May the children of this world be warned by the 
dying words of an unhappy brother, and gather ad- 
vantage from his misfortune Why should they pant, 
with such impatient ardour, after white and yellow 
earth ; as if the universe did not afford sufficient for 
every one to take a little? Why should they lade 
themselves with thick clay, when they are to ' run 
for an incorruptible crown, and press towards the 
prize of their high calling?' Why should they over- 
load the vessel, in which their everlasting all is em- 
barked; or fill their arms with superfluities, wher 
they are to swim for their lives ? Yet, so preposterou 
is the conduct of those persons, who are all industry 
to heap up an abundance of the wealth which pe- 
risheth, but are scarce so much as faintly desirous of 
being rich towards God. 

O ! that we may walk, through all these glittering 
toys, at least with a wise indifference, if not with a 
superior disdain! Having enough for the conveni- 
ences of life, let us only accommodate ourselves with 
things below, and lay up our treasures in the regions 
above. Whereas, if we indulge an anxious concern, 
or lavish an inordinate care, on any transitory pos- 
sessions, we shall rivet them to our affections with 



34 MEDITATIONS 

so firm an union, that the utmost severity of pain 
must attend the separating stroke. By such an eager 
attachment to what will certainly be ravished from 
us, we shall only insure to ourselves accumulated 
anguish against the agonizing hour. We shall plant, 
aforehand, our dying pillow with thorns.* 

Some, I perceive, arrived at threescore years and 
ten before they made their exit ; nay, some few re- 
signed not their breath till they had numbered four- 
score revolving harvests. These, I would hope, * re- 
membered their Creator in the days of their youth;' 
before their strength became labour and sorrow ; 
before that low ebb of languishing nature, when the 
keepers of the house tremble, and those that look 
out of the windows are darkened :f when even the 
lighting clown of the grasshopper, is a burden on the 
bending shoulders ; and desire itself fails in the list- 
less, lethargic soul ;— before those heavy hours come, 
and those tiresome moments draw nigh, in which, 
there is too much reason to say, ' we have no plea- 
sure in them;' no ' improvement from them.' 

If their lamps were unfurnished with oil ; how 
unfit must they be, in such decrepit circumstances, 
to go to the market, and buy!$ For, besides a va- 
riety of disorders, arising from the enfeebled con- 
stitution, their corruptions must be surprisingly 



On its sharp point peace bleeds, and hope expires.— Young. 

+ Eccles. xii. .). 5. I need imt remind my reader, that by 
the former ill' these figurative expressions, is signified the en- 
ervated state of the hands and arms; bv the latter, the dim- 
ness of the eyes, or the total loss ol'si^lit: that, taken in con- 
nexion with 'other puts of the chapter, they exhibit, in a 
series oi hold and lively metaphors, a description of llie vari- 
ous ii.hi luiii. s attendant on oid age. 

J Matt. xxv. 9. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 



35 



strengthened by such a long course of irreligion. 
Evil habits must have struck the deepest root ; must 
have twisted themselves with every fibre of the heart; 
and be as thoroughly ingrained in the disposition, as 
the soot in the Ethiopian's complexion, or the spots 
in the leopard's skin. If such a one, under such dis- 
advantages, surmounts all the difficulties which lie 
in his way to glory, it must be a great and mighty 
salvation indeed. If such a one escapes destruction, 
and is saved at the last ; it must, without all perad- 
venture, be— so as by fire.* 

This is the season which stands in need of com- 
fort, and is very improper to enter upon the conflict. 
The husbandman should now be putting in his sickle, 
or eating the fruit of his labours ; not beginning to 
break up the ground, or scatter the seed. Nothing, 
'tis true, is impossible with God. He said, Let there 
be light, and there was light ; instantaneous light, 
diffused as quick as thought, through all the dismal 
dominion of primeval darkness. At his command 
a leprosy of the longest continuance, and of the ut- 
most inveteracy, departs in a moment. He can, in 
the greatness of his strength, quicken the wretch who 
lias lain dead in trespasses and sins, not four days 
only, but forescore years. Yet trust not, O trust 
not, a point of such inexpressible importance to so 
dreadful an uncertainty. God may suspend his 
power; may withdraw his help; may swear in his 
wrath, that such abuses of his long-suffering shall 
' never enter into his rest.' 

Ye, therefore, that are vigorous in health and 

blooming in years, improve the precious opportunity. 

Improve your golden hours to the noblest of all pur- 

* 1 Cor. iii. 15. 



36 MEDITATIONS 

poses; such as may render you meet for the inherit- 
ance of saints in light; and ascertain your title to a 
state of immortal youth, to a crown of eternal glory. 
Stand not, all the prime of your day, idle: trifle no 
longer with the offers of this immense felicity: but 
make haste, and delay not the time, to keep God's 
commandments. While you are loitering in a gay 
insensibility, death may be bending his bow, and 
marking you out for speedy victims. Not long ago, 
I happened to spy a thoughtless jay. The poor bird 
was idly busied in dressing his pretty plumes, or 
hopping carelessly from spray to spray. A sports- 
man coming by observes the feathered rover ; imme- 
diately he lifts the tube, and levels his blow. Swifter 
than whirlwind flies the leaden death ; and, in a 
moment, lays the silly creature breathless on the 
ground. Such, such may be the fate of the man 
who has a fair occasion of obtaining grace to-day ; 
and wantonly postpones the improvement of it till 
to-morrow. He may be cut off, in the midst of his 
folly, and ruined for ever, while he is dreaming of 
being wise hereafter. 

Some, no doubt, came to this their last retreat, full 
of piety, and full of days ; ' as a shock of corn, ripe 
with age and laden with plenty, cometh in, in his 
season.'* These were children of light, and wise in 
their generation ; wise with that exalted wisdom 
which cometh from above, and with that enduring 
wisdom which lasts to eternity. Rich also they were, 
more honourably and permanently rich, than all the 
votaries of Mammon. The wealth of the one has 
made itself wings, and is irrecoverably gone; while 
the wretched acquirers are transmitted to that place 
* Job v. -J*. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 



37 



of penury and pain, where not so much as one drop 
of water is allowed to cool their scorched tongues. 
The stores of the other still abide with them ; wil\ 
never depart from them; but make them glad for 
ever and ever, in the city of their God. Their trea- 
sures were such as no created power could take away, 
such as none but infinite beneficence can bestow; 
and (comfortable to consider !) such as I, and every 
indigent longing sinner, may obtain ; treasures of 
heavenly knowledge and saving faith; treasures of 
atoning blood and imputed righteousness. 

Here lie their bodies in ■ peaceable habitations, 
and quiet resting-places.' Here, they have thrown 
off every burden, and are escaped from every snare. 
The head aches no more ; the eye forgets to weep ; 
the flesh is no longer racked with acute, nor wasted 
with lingering distempers. Here, they receive a final 
release from pain, and an everlasting discharge from 
sorrow. Here, danger never threatens them with 
her terrifying alarms ; but tranquillity softens their 
couch, and safety guards their repose. Rest then, 
ye precious relics, within this hospitable gloom. 
Rest in gentle slumbers, till the last trumpet shall 
give the welcome signal; and sound aloud, through 
all your silent mansions, ' Arise ; shine ; for your 
light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen 
upon you.* 

To these, how calm was the evening of life ! In 
what a smiling serenity did their sun go down ! When 
their flesh and their heart failed, how reviving wa 
the remembrance of an all-sufficient Redeemer, once 
dying for their sins, now risen again for their justifi- 
cation ! How cheering the well-grounded hope of 
* Isa. lx. l. 



38 MEDITATIONS 

pardon for their transgressions, and peace with God, 
through Jesus Christ our Lord ! How did this assuage 
the agonies, and sweeten the bitterness of death ? 
"Where now is wealth, with all her golden moun- 
tains? Where is honour, with her proud trophies of 
renown ? Where are all the vain pomps of a deluded 
world ? Can they inspire such comfort, can they ad- 
minister any support, in this last extremity ? Can they 
compose the affrighted thoughts? or buoy up the 
departing soul, amidst all the pangs of dissolution ? 
The followers of the Lamb seem pleased and tri- 
umphant, even at their last gasp. • God's everlasting 
arms are underneath'* their fainting heads. His 
Spirit whispers peace and consolation to their con- 
sciences. In the strength of these heavenly succours, 
they quit the field, not captives but conquerors, with 
♦ hopes full of immortality.' 

And now they are gone. The struggles of reluc- 
tant nature are over. The body sleeps in death ; the 
soul launches into the invisible state. But, who can 
imagine the delightful surprise, when they find them- 
selves surrounded by guardian angels, instead of 
weeping friends ? How securely do they wing their 
way, and pass through unknown worlds, under the 
conduct of those celestial guides ? The vale of tears 
is quite lost. Farewell, for ever, the realms of woe, 
and rage of malignant beings ! They arrive on the 
frontiers of inexpressible felicity. They ' are come 
to the city of the living God :' while a voice sweeter 
than music in her softest strains, sweet as the har- 
mony of hymning seraphim, congratulates their arri- 
val, and bespeaks their admission Lift up youi 

» Dent xxxiii. 27. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 39 

beads, O ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting 
doors, that the heirs of glory may enter in. 

Here, then, let us leave the spirits and souls of the 
righteous; escaped from an entangling wilderness, 
and received into a paradise of delights ! Escaped 
from the territories of disquietude, and settled in re- 
gions of unmolested security ! Here, they sit down 
with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of 
their Father. Here they mingle with an innumerable 
company of angels, and rejoice around the throne of 
the Lamb: rejoice in the fruition of present felicity, 
and in the assured expectation of an inconceivable 
addition to their bliss; when God shall call the 
heavens from above, and the earth, that he may judge 
his people. 

Fools accounted their life madness, and their end 
to be without honour : but they are numbered among 
the children of God; and their lot, their distinguished 
and eternal lot, is among the saints !* However, 
therefore, an undiscerning world may despise, and a 
profane world vilify, the truly religious ; be this the 
supreme, the invariable desire of my heart : ' Let me 
live the life and die the death of the righteous. Oh ! 
let my latter end and future state be like theirs !' 

What figure is that which strikes my eye from an 
eminent part of the wall ? It is not only placed in 
a more elevated situation than the rest, but carries 
a more splendid and sumptuous air than ordinary. 
Swords and spears, murdering engine? and instru- 
ments of slaughter, adorn the stone with a formid- 
able magnificence.— It proves to be the monument 
of a noble warrior. 

Is such respect, thought I, paid to the memory of 
* Wisdom v. 4, 5. 



40 MEDITATIONS 

this brave soldier for sacrificing his life to the public 
good ? Then what honours, what immortal honours 
are due to the great Captain of our salvation ? who, 
though Lord of the angelic legions, and supreme 
commander of all the heavenly hosts, willingly of- 
fered himself a bleeding propitiation for sinners ? 

The one died, being a mortal, and only yielded 
up a life which was long before forfeited to divine 
justice; which must soon have been surrendered as 
a debt to nature if it had not fallen as a prey to 
war. But Christ took flesh and gave up the ghost, 
though he was the great I Am, the fountain of ex- 
istence, who calls happiness and immortality all his 
own. He who thought it no robbery to be equal 
with God, he whose outgoings were from everlasting, 
even he was made in the likeness of man, and cut 
off out of the land of the living. Wonder, O heavens ! 
be astonished, O earth ! He died the death, of whom 
it is witnessed, that he is « the true God and eternal 
life.'* 

The one exposed himself to peril in the service of 
his sovereign and his country, which, though it was 
glorious to do, yet would have been ignominious in 
such circumstances to have declined. But Christ 
took the field, though he was the blessed and only 
Potentate, the King of kings, and Lord of lords. 
Christ took the field, though he was sure to drop in 
the engagement, and put on the harness, though he 
knew beforehand that it must reek with his blood. 
That prince of heaven resigned his royal person, 
not barely to the hazard but to the inevitable stroke, 
to death, certain in its approach, and armed with all 
its horrors ; and for whom ? Not for those who were 
« l John v. 20. 



AMOXG THE TOMBS. 41 

in any degree deserving, but for his own disobedient 
creatures, for the pardon of condemned malefactors; 
for a band of rebels, a race of traitors, the most ob- 
noxious and inexcusable of all criminals, whom he 
might have left to perish in their iniquities, without 
the least impeachment of his goodness, and to the 
display of his avenging justice. 

The one, it is probable, died expeditiously, was 
suddenly wounded and soon slain. A bullet lodged 
in his heart, a sword sheathed in his breast, or a bat- 
tle-axe cleaving the brain, might put a speedy end 
to his misery, dispatch him ' as in a moment;' 
whereas the divine Redeemer expired in tedious and 
protracted torments. His pangs were as lingering 
as they were exquisite. Even in the prelude to his 
last suffering, what a load of sorrows overwhelmed 
his sacred humanity ! till the intolerable pressure 
wrung blood, instead of sweat, from every pore ; till 
the crimson flood stained all his raiment and tinged 
the very stones. But, when the last scene of the 
tragedy commenced, when the executioner's hammer 
had nailed him to the cross, Oh! how many dismal 
hours did that illustrious sufferer hang, a spectacle 
of woe to God, to angels, and to men ! His temples 
mangled with the thorny crown ! his hands and feet 
cleft with the rugged irons ! his whole body covered 
with wounds and bruises ! and his soul, his very soul, 
pierced with unutterable pangs of distress ? 

So long he hung, that nature through all her do- 
minions was thrown into sympathizing commotions. 
The earth could no longer sustain such barbarous 
indignities without trembling, nor the sun behold 
them without horror. Nay, so long did he hang in 
this extremity of agony and torture, that the alarm 



42 MEDITATIONS 

reached even the remote regions of the dead. Never, 
O my soul, never forget the amazing truth. The 
Lamb of God was seized, was bound, was slaughtered 
with the utmost inhumanity, and endureth death in 
all its bitterness for thee. His murderers, studiously 
cruel, so guided the fatal cup, that he tasted every 
drop of its gall, before he drank it off to the very dregs. 

Once again, the warrior died like a hero, and fell 
gallantly in the field of battle. But died not Christ 
as a fool dieth ?* Not on the bed of honour with scars 
of glory in his breast, but like some execrable mis- 
creant on a gibbet, with lashes of the vile scourge 
on his back. Yes, the blessed Jesus bowed his ex- 
piring head on the accursed tree, suspended between 
heaven and earth, as an outcast from both and un- 
worthy of either. 

What suitable returns of inflamed and adoring 
devotion can we make to the Holy One of God ; thus 
dying, that we might live; dying in ignominy and 
anguish, that we might live for ever in the heights 
of joy, and sit for ever on thrones of glory ? Alas ! 
it is not in us, impotent insensible mortals, to be 
duly thankful. He only who confers such incon- 
ceivably rich favours, can enkindle a proper warmth 
of grateful affection. Then build thyself a monument, 
most gracious Immanuel, build thyself an everlasting 
monument of gratitude in our souls. Inscribe the 
memory of thy matchless beneficence, not with ink 
and pen, but with that precious blood which gushed 
from thy wounded veins. Engrave it, not with the 
hammer and chisel, but with that sharpened spear 
which pierced thy sacred side. Let it stand conspi- 

*2 Sam. iii. 33. Of this indignity our Lord complains; 
Are you conic out as against a thief 1— Malt. xxvi. 55. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 43 

cuous and indelible, not on outward tables of stone, 
but on the very inmost tables of our hearts. 

One thing more let me observe, before I bid adieu 
to this entombed warrior, and his garnished sepul- 
chre. How mean are these ostentatious methods of 
bribing the vote of fame, and purchasing a little pos- 
thumous renown ! What a poor substitute for a set 
of memorable actions, is polished alabaster, or the 
mimicry of sculptured marble ! The real excellency 
of this bleeding patriot is written on the minds of 
his countrymen; it would be remembered with ap- 
plause so long as the nation subsists, without this ar- 
tificial expedient to perpetuate it. And such, such 
is the monument I would wish for myself. Let me 
leave a memorial in the breasts of my fellow-crea- 
tures. Let surviving friends bear witness, that I 
have not lived to myself alone, nor been unservice- 
able in my generation. O ! let an uninterrupted 
series of beneficent offices be the inscription; and 
the best interests of my acquaintance, the plate that 
exhibits it. 

Let the poor as they pass by my grave point at 
the little spot, and thankfully acknowledge, * There 
lies the man whose unwearied kindness was the con- 
stant relief of my various distresses, who tenderly 
visited my languishing bed, and readily supplied my 
indigent circumstances. How often were his coun- 
sels a guide to my perplexed thoughts, and a cordial 
to my dejected spirits ! 'Tis owing to God's blessing, 
on his seasonable charities, and prudent consolations, 
that I now live, and live in comfort.' Let a person, 
once ignorant and ungodly, lift up his eyes to heaven, 
and say within himself, as he walks over my bones, 
« Here are the last remains of that sincere friend, who 



44 MEDITATIONS 

watched for my soul. I can never forget with what 
heedless gaiety I was posting on in the paths of per- 
dition ; and I tremble to think into what irretrievable 
ruin I might quickly have been plunged, had not his 
faithful admonitions arrested me in the wild career. 
I was unacquainted with the gospel of peace, and 
had no concern for its unsearchable treasures ; but 
now, enlightened by his instructive conversation, I 
see the all-sufficiency of my Saviour, and, animated 
by his repeated exhortations, I count all things but 
loss, that I may win Christ. Methinks, his dis- 
courses seasoned with religion, and set home by the 
Divine Spirit, still tingle in my ears, are still warm 
on my heart, and, I trust, will be more and more 
operative, till we meet each other in the house not 
made with hands, eternal in the heavens.' 

The only infallible way of immortalizing our cha- 
racters, a way equally open to the meanest and most 
exalted fortune, is, « To make our calling and elec- 
tion sure,' to gain some sweet evidence that our 
names are written in heaven. Then, however they 
may be disregarded or forgotten among men, they 
will not fail to be had in everlasting remembrance 
before the Lord. This is, of all distinctions, far the 
noblest. Ambition, be this thy object, and every 
page of Scripture will sanctify thy passion; even 
grace itself will fan thy flame. As to earthly me- 
morials, yet a little while, and they are all oblite- 
rated. The tongue of those, whose happiness we 
have zealously promoted, must soon be silent in the 
coffin. Characters cut with a pen of iron, and com- 
mitted to the solid rock, will ere long cease to be 
legible. But as many as are enrolled • in the Lamb's 
book of life,' He himself declares, shall never be 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 45 

blotted out from those annals of eternity.* When 
a flight of years has mouldered the triumphal column 
into dust ; when the brazen statue perishes under the 
corroding hand of time ; those honours still continue, 
still are blooming and incorruptible in the world of 
glory. 

Makp the extended skies your tomb; 
Let stars record your worth : 



Would bounteous Heav'n indulge my prayer, 

I frame a nobler choice ; 
Nor, living, wish the pompous pile; 

Nor, dead, regret the loss. 
In thy fair book of life divine, 

My God, inscribe my name: 
There let it fill some humble place, 

Beneath the slaughier'd Lamb. 
Thy saints, while ages roll away, 

In endless fame survive; 
Their glories, o'er the wrongs of time 

Greatly triumphant, live. 

Yonder entrance leads, I suppose, to the vault. 
Let me turn aside, and take one view of the habita- 
tion and its tenants. The sullen door grates upon 
its hinges : not used to receive many visitants, it 
admits me with reluctance and murmurs. What 
meaneth this sudden trepidation ; while I descend 
the steps, and am visiting the pale nations of the 
dead ? Be composed, my spirits ; there is nothing to 
fear in these quiet chambers. « Here, even the wicked 
cease from troubling.' 

Good heavens ! what a solemn scene ! How dismal 

the gloom ! Here is perpetual darkness, and night 

even at noonday. How doleful the solitude ! Not 

one trace of cheerful society ; but sorrow and terror 

* Rev. iii. 5, 



46 MEDITATIONS 

seem to have made this their dreaded abode. Hark ! 
how the hollow dome resounds at every tread. The 
echoes, that long have slept, are awakened ; and 
lament, and sigh along the walls. 

A beam or two finds its way through the grates, 
and reflects a feeble glimmer from the nails of the 
coffins. So many of those sad spectacles, half con- 
cealed in shades, half seen dimly by the baleful twi- 
light, add a deeper horror to those gloomy mansions. 
I pore upon the inscriptions, and am just able to pick 
out, that these are the remains of the rich and re- 
nowned. No vulgar dead are deposited here. The 
most illustrious and right honourable have claimed 
this for their last retreat: and, indeed, they retain 
somewhat of a shadowy pre-eminence. They lie, 
ranged in mournful order, and, in a sort of silent 
pomp, under the arches cf an ample sepulchie ; while 
meaner corpses, without much ceremony, « go down 
to the stones of the pit.' 

My apprehensions recover from their surprise. I 
find here are no phantoms, but such as fear raises. 
However, it still amazes me to observe the wonders 
of this nether world. Those who received vast re- 
venues, and called whole lordships their own, are 
here reduced to half a dozen feet of earth, or con- 
fined in a few sheets of lead. Rooms of state and 
sumptuous furniture are resigned for no other orna- 
ment than the shroud, for no other apartment than 
the darksome niche. Where is the star, that blazed 
upon the breast ; or coronet, that glittered round the 
temples ? The only remains of departed dignity are, 
the weather-beaten hatchment and the tattered es- 
cutcheon. I see no splendid retinue surrounding this 
solitary dwelling. The lordly equipage hovers no 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 47 

longer about the lifeless master. He has no other 
attendant than a dusty statue, which, while the re- 
gardless world is as gay as ever, the sculptor's hand 
has taught to weep. 

Those who gloried in highborn ancestors and noble 
pedigree here drop their lofty pretensions. They ac- 
knowledge kindred with creeping things, and quarter 
arms with the meanest reptiles. They say to corrup- 
tion, • Thou art my father ; and to the worm, Thou 
art my mother and my sister.' Or, should they still 
assume the style of distinction, ah ! how impotent 
■were the claim ! how apparent the ostentation ! Is it 
said by their monument, Here lies the great? How 
easily is it replied by the spectator 

Fal-e marble ! where ! 

Nothing but poor and sordid dust lies here. 

Mortifying truth ! Sufficient, one would think, to 
wean the most sanguine appetite from this transitory 
state of things ; from its sickly satisfactions, its fading 
glories, its vanishing treasures. 

For now, ye lying- vanities of life * 

Ye ever-teiiiptiiia-, c-vtr-cneating train ! 

Where are you now ! And what is your amount ? 

Where is all the world to these poor breathless 
beings ? What are their pleasures ? a bubble broke. 
What their honours? a dream that is forgotten. 
What the sum-total of their enjoyments below ? once, 
perhaps, it appeared to inexperienced and fond desire, 
something considerable; but, now death has mea- 
sured it with his line and weighed it in his scale, what 
is the upshot ? Alas ' it is shorter than a span . 
lighter than the dancing spark ; and driven away like 
the dissolving smoke. 

Indulge, my soul, a serious pause. Recollect all 



48 MEDITATIONS 

the gay things that were wont to dazzle thy eyes and 
inveigle thy affections. Here examine those baits of 
sense; here form an estimate of their real value. 
Suppose thyself first among the favourites of fortune, 
who revel in the lap of pleasure, who shine in the 
robes of honour, and swim in tides of inexhausted 
riches. Vet, how soon will the passing bell proclaim 
thy exit! And when once that iron call has sum- 
moned thee to thy future reckoning, where would all 
these gratifications be? At that period, how will all 
-he pageantry of the most affluent, splendid, or luxu- 
rious circumstances, vanish into empty air ! And, is 
this a happiness so passionately to be coveted ? 

I thank you, ye relics of sounding titles and mag- 
nificent names. Ye have taught me more of the lit- 
tleness of the world than all the volumes of my 
library. Your nobility arrayed in a winding-sheet, 
your grandeur mouldering in an urn, are the most 
indisputable proofs of the nothingness of created 
things. Never, surely, did Providence write this im- 
portant point in such legible characters, as in the 
ashes of my lord, or on the corpse of his grace. Let 
others, if they please, pay their obsequious court to 
your wealthy sons, and ignobly fawn, or anxiously 
kue for preferments : my thoughts shall often resort, 
m pensive contemplation, to the sepulchres of their 
sires ; and learn, from their sleeping dust — to mode- 
rate my expectation from mortals, to stand disen- 
gaged from every undue attachment to the little in- 
terests of time, to get above the delusive amusements 
of honour, the gaudy tinsels of wealth, and all the 
empty shadows of a perishing world. 

Hark! what sound is that! In such a situation 
every noise alarms. Solemn and slow, it breaks again 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 49 

upon the silent air. 'Tis the striking of the clock — 
designed, one would imagine, to ratify all my serious 
meditations. Methinks it says Amen, and sets a seal 
to every improving hint. It tells me, that another 
portion of my appointed time is elapsed. One calls it, 
« the knell of my departed hours.' 'Tis the watch- 
word to vigilance and activity. It cries in the ear of 
reason, « Redeem the time. Catch the favourable 
gales of opportunity : Oh ! catch them, while they 
breathe; before they are irrecoverably lost. The 
span of life shortens continually. Thy minutes are 
all upon the wing, and hastening to be gone. Thou 
art a borderer upon eternity, and making incessant 
advances to the state thou art contemplating.' May 
the admonition sink deep into an attentive and obe- 
dient mind ! May it teach me that heavenly arith- 
metic, of ' numbering my days, and applying my 
heart unto wisdom.' 

I have often walked beneath the impending pro- 
montory's craggy cliff; I have sometimes trod the 
vast spaces of the lonely desert, and penetrated the 
inmost recesses of the dreary cavern: but never, 
never beheld nature louring with so tremendous a 
form ; never felt such impressions of awe striking 
cold on my heart, as under these black-browed arches, 
amidst these mouldy walls, and surrounded by such 
rueful objects; where melancholy, deepest melan- 
choly, for ever spreads hei raven wings! Let me 
now emerge from the damp and dreadful obscurity ! 
Farewell, ye seats of desolation, and shades of death ! 
Gladly I revisit the realms of day. 

Having cast a superficial view upon these recep- 
tacles of the dead, curiosity prompts mv inquiry to a 
more intimate survey. Could we draw back the co- 



50 MEDITATIONS 

vering of the tomb; could we discern what those are 
now who once were mortals — O ! how would it sur- 
prise and grieve us [—surprise us, to behold the pro- 
digious transformation which has taken place on 
every individual ; grieve us, to observe the dishonour 
done to our nature in general within these subterra- 
neous lodgments ! 

Here, the sweet and winning aspect, that wore per- 
petually an attractive smile, grins horribly a naked 
ghastly skulk The eye that outshone the diamond's 
brilliancy, and glanced its lovely lightning into the 
most guarded heart : alas ! where is it ? Where shall 
we find the rolling sparkler ? How are all its sprightly 
beams eclipsed, totally eclipsed ! The tongue, that 
once commanded all the power of eloquence, in this 
strange land has ' forgot its cunning.' Where are 
now those strains of harmony which ravished our 
ears ? Where is that flow of persuasion, which car- 
ried captive our judgments? The great master of 
language and of song is become silent as the night 
that surrounds him. The pampered flesh, so lately 
clothed in purple and fine linen, how is it covered 
rudely with clods of clay ! There was a time, when 
the timorously nice creature could scarce 'adventure 
to set a foot upon the ground for delicateness and 
tenderness;* but is now enwrapped in clammy earth, 
and sleeps on no softer a pillow than the ragged gra- 
vel-stones. Here, ' the strong men bow themselves.' 
The nervous arm is unstrung ; the brawny sinews are 
relaxed ; the limbs, not long ago the seats of vigour 
and activity, lie down motionless, and the bones, 
which were as bars of iron, are crushed into dust. 

Here, the man of business forgets all his favourite 
* Deut. xxviii. 56V 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 51 

schemes, and discontinues the pursuit of gain. Here 
is a total stand to the circulation of merchandise, and 
the hurry of trade. In these solitary recesses, as in 
the building of Solomon's temple, is heard no sound 
of the hammer and axe. The winding-sheet and the 
coffin are the utmost bound of all earthly devices. 
« Hitherto may they go, but no farther.' Here, the 
sons of pleasure take a final farewell of their dear 
delights. No more is the sensualist anointed with 
oil, or crowned with rose-buds. He chants no more 
to the melody of the viol, nor revels any longer at 
the banquet of wine. Instead of sumptuous tables 
and delicious treats, the poor voluptuary is himself a 
feast for fattened insects ; the reptile riots on his 
flesh; * the worm feeds sweetly on him.'* Here also 
beauty fails ; bright beauty drops her lustre here. 
O ! how her roses fade, and her lilies languish, in 
this bleak soil ! How does the grand leveller pour 
contempt upon the charmer of our hearts ! How turn 
to deformity, what captivated the world before ! 

Could the lover have a sight of his once enchanting 
fair one, what a startling astonishment would seize 
him ! « Is this the object I not long ago so passion- 
ately admired ! I said, she was divinely fair ; and 
thought her somewhat more than mortal. Her form 
was symmetry itself ; every elegance breathed in her 
air ; and all the Graces waited on her motions. 'Twas 
music, when she spoke ; but, when she spoke encou- 
ragement, « 'twas little less than rapture. How my 
heart danced to those charming accents ! And can 
that which, some weeks ago, was to admiration lovely, 
be now so insufferably loathsome ? Where are those 
blushing cheeks ? where the coral lips ? where that 
* Job xxiv. 20. 



52 MEDITATIONS 

ivory neck, on which the curling jet in such glossy 
ringlets flowed? with a thousand other beauties of 
person, and ten thousand delicacies of action ? 
Amazing alteration ! Delusory bliss ! Fondly I gazed 
upon the glittering meteor. It shone brightly; and 
I mistook it for a star ; for a permanent and substan- 
tial good. But how is it fallen ! fallen from an orb, 
not its own ! And all that I can trace on earth, is 
but a putrid mass.' 

Lie, poor Florella ! lie deep, as thou dost in ob- 
scure darkness. Let night, with her impenetrable 
shades, always conceal thee. May no prying eye, 
be witness to thy disgrace: but let thy surviving 
sisters think upon thy state, when they contemplate 
the idol in the glass. When the pleasing image rises 
gracefully to view, surrounded with a world of 
charms, and flushed with joy at the consciousness of 
them all; then, in those minutes of temptation and 
danger, when vanity uses to steal into the thoughts 
— then, let them remember what a veil of horror is 
drawn over a face, which was once beautiful and 
brilliant as theirs. Such a seasonable reflection might 
regulate the labours of the toilet, and create a more 
earnest solicitude to polish the jewel, than to varnish 
the casket. It might then become their highest am- 
bition to have the mind decked with divine virtues, 
and dressed after the amiable pattern of their Re- 
deemer's holiness. 

And would this prejudice their persons, or depre- 
ciate their charms? Quite the reverse. It would 
spread a sort of heavenly glory over the finest set of 
features, and heighten the loveliness of every other 
engaging accomplishment What is yet a more in- 
viting consideration, these flowers would not wither 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 53 

with nature nor be tarnished by time; but would open 
continually into richer beauties, and flourish even in 
the winter of age. But the most incomparable re- 
commendation of these noble qualities, is, that, from 
their hallowed relics, and from the fragrant ashes of 
the phcenix, will ere long arise an illustrious form, 
bright as the wings of angels, lasting as the light of 
the new Jerusalem. 

For my part, the remembrance of this sad revolu- 
tion shall make me ashamed to pay my devotion to 
a shrine of perishing flesh, and afraid to expect all 
my happiness from so brittle a joy. It shall teach 
me not to think too highly of well-proportioned clay, 
though formed in the most elegant mould, and ani- 
mated with the sweetest soul. 'Tis Heaven's last, 
best, and crowning gift, to be received with gratitude, 
and cherished with love, as a most valuable blessing ; 
not worshipped with the incense of flattery and strains 
of fulsome adoration, as a goddess. It will cure, I 
trust, the dotage of my eyes ; and incline me always 
to prefer the substantial ■ ornaments of a meek and 
virtuous spirit,' before the transient decorations of 
white and red on the skin. 

Here I called in my roving meditations from their 
long excursion on this tender subject. Fancy listened 
a while to the soliloquy of a lover. Now judgment 
resumes the reins and guides my thoughts to more 
near and self-interesting inquiries. However, upon 
a review of the whole scene, crowded with spectacles 
of mortality and trophies of death, I could not for- 
bear smiting my breast, and fetching a sigh, and la- 
menting over the noblest of all visible beings, laid 
prostrate under the feet of ' the pale horse and his 
rider.'* I could not forbear repeating that pathetic 
* Rev. vi. 8. 



54 MEDITATIONS 

exclamation; » Oh ! thou,* Adam, what hast thou 
done ?' What desolation has thy disobedience wrought 
in the earth ? See the malignity, the ruinous malig- 
nity of sin ! Sin has demolished so many stately 
structures of flesh: sin has made such havoc among 
the most excellent ranks of God's lower creation : and 
sin (that deadly bane of our nature) would have 
plunged our better part into the execrable horrors of 
the nethermost hell, had not our merciful Mediator 
interposed, and given himself for our ransom. There- 
fore what grateful acknowledgments does the whole 
world of penitent sinners owe ; what ardent returns 
of love will a whole heaven of glorified believers pay, 
to such a friend, benefactor, and deliverer ! 

Musing upon these melancholy objects, a faithful 
remembrancer suggests from within — « Must this sad 
change succeed in me also ? Am I to draw my last 
gasp; to become a breathless corpse; and be, what 
I deplore ? Is there a time approaching, when this 
body shall be carried out upon the bier, and consigned 
to his clay-cold bed ? while some kind acquaintance, 
perhaps, may drop one parting tear, and cry, Alas ! 
my brother ! Is the time approaching ?' Nothing is 
more certain ; a decree, much surer than the law of 
the Medes and Persians, has irrevocably determined 
the doom. 

Should one of these ghastly figures burst from his 
confinement, and start up in a frightful deformity 
before me — should the haggard skeleton lift a clat- 
tering hand, and point it full in my view— should it 
open the stiffened jaws, and with a hoarse tremendous 
murmur break this profound silence— should it accost 
me, as Samuel's apparition addressed the trembling 
« 2 Esdr. vii. 41. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 55 

king, « The Lord shall deliver thee also into the hands 
of death ; yet a little while, and thou shalt be with 
me,'* — the solemn warning, delivered in so striking a 
manner, must strongly impress my imagination. A 
message in thunder would scarce sink deeper. Yet, 
there is abundantly greater reason to be alarmed by 
that express declaration of the Lord God Almighty, 
« Thou shalt surely die.' Well, then, since sentence 
is passed, since I am a condemned man, and know 
not when the dead warrant may arrive; let me die 
to sin, and die to the world, before I die beneath the 
stroke of a righteous God. Let me employ the little 
uncertain interval of respite from execution, in pre- 
paring for a happier state and a better life ; that when 
the fatal moment comes, and I am commanded to 
shut my eyes upon all things here below, I may open 
them again to see my Saviour in the mansions above. 
Since this body which is so fearfully and wonder- 
fully made, must fall to pieces in the grave; since I 
must soon resign all by bodily powers to darkness, 
inactivity, and corruption, let it be my constant care 
to use them well while I possess them ! Let my hands 
be stretched forth to relieve the needy, and always 
je more ' ready to give than to receive.' Let my 
knees bend in deepest humiliation before the throne 
of grace, while my eyes are cast down to the earth 
in penitential confusion, or devoutly looking up to 
heaven for pardoning mercy ! In every friendly in- 
terview, let the ' law of kindness dwell on my lips; 
or rather, if the seriousness of my acquaintance per- 
mits, let the Gospel of peace flow from my tongue. 
O ! that I might be enabled, in every public con- 
course, to lift up my voice like a trumpet, and pour 
* l Sam. xxviii. 19. 



56 MEDITATIONS 

abroad a more joyful sound than its most melodious 
accents, in proclaiming the glad tidings of free salva- 
tion ! Be shut, my ears, resolutely shut, against the 
malevolent whispers of slander, and the contagious 
breath of filthy talking. But be swift to hear the in- 
structions of wisdom ; be all attention when your 
Redeemer speaks; imbibe the precious truths; and 
convey them carefully to the heart. Carry me, my 
feet, to the temple of the Lord, to the beds of the 
sick, and houses of the poor. May all my members, 
devoted entirely to my divine Master, be the willing 
instruments of promoting his glory ! 

Then, ye embalmers, ye may spare your pains. 
These works of faith and labours of love, these shall 
be my spices and perfumes. Enwrapped in these, 1 
would lay me gently down, and sleep sweetly in the 
blessed Jesus; hoping that God will « give command- 
ment concerning my bones,' and one day fetch them 
up from the dust, as silver from the furnace, purified, 
* I say not, seven times, but seventy times seven.' 

Here my contemplation took wing, and in an in- 
stant alighted in the garden, adjoining Mount Cal- 
vary. Having viewed the abode of my deceased 
fellow-creatures, methought I longed to see the place 
where our Lord lay. And, Oh ! what a marvellous 
spectacle was once exhibited in this memorable sepul- 
chre ! He, * who clothes himself with light as with 
a garment, and walks upon the wings of the wind;'* 

* The Scriptures, speaking of the Supreme Being', say- 
He walketli upon the waxes ot the sea ; to denote his uncon- 
trollable power, Job ix. 8.— He walketli in the circuit o 
heaven; to express the immensity of his presence, Job xxii. 
14.— He walkein upon the wings of the wind; to signify the 
amazi..g swiftness of his operation, Psal. civ. 3; in which last 
phrase there is, I think, ane legance and emphasis not taken 
notice of by our commentators, yet unequalled in any writer. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 57 

He was pleased to wear the habiliments of mortality, 
and dwelt among the prostrate dead. Who can re- 
peat the wondrous truth too often ? Who can dwell 
upon the transporting theme too long ? He, who sits 
enthroned in glory, and diffuses bliss among all the 
heavenly hosts ; he was once a pale and bloody corpse, 
and pressed this little spot. 

O death ! how great was thy triumph in that hour ! 
Never did thy gloomy realms contain such a prisoner 
before. Prisoner, did I say ? No ; he was more than 
conqueror. He arose, far more mightily than Sam- 
son, from a transient slumber ; broke down the gales, 
and demolished the strong-holds of those dark domi- 
nions. And this, O mortals, this is your only conso- 
lation and security. Jesus has trod the dreadful path, 
and smoothed it for your passage. Jesus, sleeping in 
the chambers of the tomb, has brightened the dismal 
mansion, and left an inviting odour in those beds of 
dust. The dying Jesus ! (never let the comfortable truth 
depart from your minds ! the dying Jesus) is your 
sure protection, your unquestionable passport through 
the territories of the grave. Believe in Him, and 
they shall prove a ' highway to Sion;' shall transmit 
you safe to Paradise. Believe in Him, and you shall 

—Not, He flieth ; He runneth ; but, He walketh : and that, 
on the very wings ot the wind ; on the mostimpetuous of ele- 
ments, roused into its utmost ras^e, and sweeping along 1 with 
inconceivable rapidity. A tumult in nature, not to be de- 
scribed, is the composed and sedate work of the Deity. A 
speed not to be measured, is (with reverence 1 use the ex- 
pression, and to comport with our low methods of conception^ 
solemn and majestic foot-pace of Jehovah. How flat are 
— '11 the great master of lyric sonsr, 

e 

He walketh upon the wings of the wind ! 



58 MEDITATIONS 

be no losers, but unspeakable gainers, by your disso- 
lution. For hear what the oracle of heaven says 
upon this important point : ' Whoso believeth in Me, 
shall never die.'* What sublime and emphatical lan- 
guage is this ! This much, at least, it must import— 
The nature of that last change shall ' be surprisingly 
altered for the better : it shall no longer be inflicted 
as a punishment, but rather be vouchsafed as a bless- 
ing. To such persons it shall come attended with 
such a train of benefits, as will render it a kind of 
happy impropriety to call it dying. Dying! No; 
'tis then they truly begin to live. Their exit is the 
end of their frailty and their entrance upon perfec- 
tion. Their last groan is the prelude to life and im- 
mortality.' 

O ye timorous souls, that are terrified at the sound 
of the passing-bell, that turn pale at the sight of an 
opened grave, and can scarce behold a coffin or a 
skull without a shuddering horror : Ye that are in 
bondage to the grisly tyrant, and tremble at the 
shaking of his iron rod ; cry mightily to the Father of 
your spirits, for faith in his dear Son. Faith will 
free you from your slavery.! Faith will embolden you 
to tread on (this fiercest of) serpents.^ old Simeon, 
clasping the child Jesus in the arms of his flesh, and 
the glorious Mediator in the arms of his faith, de- 
parts with fanquillity and peace. That bitter perse- 
cutor Saul, having won Christ, being found in Christ, 
longs to be dismissed from cumbrous clay, and kindles 
into rapture at the prospect of dissolution^ Methinks 

* John xi. 26. 

t Death's terror is the mountain f;iith removes: 

'Tis faith disarms dt-smiet.on.- 

Believe, and look with triumph on the tomb.— Young. 
I Luke x. 19. § Phil. i. S3. 2 Tim. iv. 7. 8. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 59 

I see another of Immanuel's followers, trusting in his 
Saviour, leaning on his Beloved, go down to the silent 
shades with composure and alacrity.* In this power- 
ful name an innumerable company of sinful creatures 
have set up their banners, and ' overcome, through 
the blood of the Lamb.' Authorized by the Captain 
of thy salvation, thou also mayst set thy feet upon 
the neck of this king of terrors. Furnished with this 
antidote, thou also mayst play around the hole of the 
asp, and put thy undaunted hand on this cockatrice- 
den, f Thou mayst feel the viper £ fastening to thy 
mortal part, and fear no evil: thou shalt one day 
shake it offby a joyful resurrection, and suffer no harm. 
Resurrection ! That cheering word eases my mind 
of an anxious thought, and solves a most momentous 
question. I was going to ask, * Wherefore do all 
these corpses lie here, in this abject condition ? Is 
this their final state ? Has death conquered, and will 
the tyrant hold captivity captive? How long wilt 
thou forget them, O Lord, for ever ? No, saith the 
voice from heaven, the word of divine revelation ; 
the righteous are all « prisoners of hope.'§ There is 
an hour (an awful secret that, and known only to all- 
foreseeing Wisdom) an appointed hour there is, when 
an act of grace will pass the great seal above, and 
give them an universal discharge, a general delivery 
from the abodes of corruption. Then shall the Lord 
Jesus descend from heaven, with the shout of the 
archangel and the trump of God. Destruction itselt 
shall hear his call, and the obedient grave give up her 
dead. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, they 
shake off the sleep of ten thousand years, and spring 



60 MEDITATIONS 

forth, like the hounding roe, to * meet their Lord in 
the air.' 

And O ! with what cordial congratulations, what 
transporting endearments, do the soul and body, 
those affectionate companions, re-unite ! But with 
how much greater demonstrations of kindness are 
they both received by their compassionate Redeemer ! 
The Ancient of Days, who comes in the clouds of 
heaven, is their friend, their father, their bridegroom. 
He comes with irresistible power and infinite glory, 
but they have nothing to fear from his majestic ap- 
pearance. Those tremendous solemnities which 
spread desolation and astonishment through the uni- 
verse, serve only to inflame their love and heighten 
their hopes. The Judge, the awful Judge, amidst all 
his magnificence and splendour, vouchsafes to con- 
fess their names, vouchsafes to commemorate their 
fidelity, before all the inhabitants of the skies, and 
the whole assembled world. 

Hark ! the thunders are hushed. See ! the light- 
nings cease their rage. The angelic armies stand in 
silent suspense. The whole race of Adam is wrapped 
in pleasing or anxious expectations. And now, that 
adorable Person, whose favour is better thau life, 
whose acceptance is a crown of glory, lifts up the light 
of his countenance upon the righteous; he speaks, 
and what ravishing words proceed from his gracious 
lips ! what ecstacies of delight they enkindle iu the 
breasts of the faithful ! « I accept you, O my people ! 
Ye are they that believed in my name. Ye are they 
that renounced yourselves and are complete in me. 
I see no spot or blemish in you, for ye are washed in 
my blood, and clothed with my righteousness. 
Renewed by my spirit, ye have glorified me on earth. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 61 

and have been faithful unto death. Come then, ye 
servants of holiness, enter into the joy of your Lord. 
Come, ye children of light, ye blessed of my Father, 
receive the kingdom that shall never be removed, 
wear the crown which fadeth not away, and enjoy 
pleasures for evermore ! ' 

Then, it will be one of the smallest privileges of 
the righteous, that they shall languish no more; that 
sickness will never again show her pale countenance 
in their dwellings.* Death itself will be swallowed up 
in victory.' That fatal javelin, which has drunk the 
blood of monarchs, and finds its way to the hearts of 
all the sons of Adam, shall be utterly broken. That 
enormous scythe, which has struck empires from 
their root, and swept ages and generations into 
oblivion, shall lie by in perpetual uselessness. Sin 
also, which filled thy quiver, thou insatiate archer !— 
sin, which strung thy arm with resistless vigour; 
which pointed all thy shafts with inevitable destruc- 
tion—sin will then be done away. Whatever is frail 
or depraved will be thrown off with our grave- 
clothes. All to come is perfect holiness, and con- 
summate happiness, the term of whose continuance is 
eternity. 

O eternity! eternity! how are our boldest, our 
strongest thoughts, lost and overwhelmed in thee! 
Who can set landmarks to limit thy dimensions, or 
find plummets to fathom thy depths ? Arithmeticians 

* Isaiah, speaking of the new Jerusalem, mentions this as 
oue of its immunities: 'The inhabitants thereof shall no more 
say, I am sick.' Another clause in its royal charter runs 
thus: 'Uod shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and 
there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, 
neither shall there be any more pain.' Isa. xxxiii. 2\. Rev. 



62 MEDITATIONS 

have figures to compute all the progressions of time; 
astronomers have instruments to calculate the dis- 
tances of the planets ; but what numbers can state, 
what lines can guage, the lengths and breadths of 
eternity ? « It is higher than heaven, what canst thou 
do ? deeper than hell, what canst thou know ? the 
measure thereof is longer than the earth, broader than 
the sea.'* 

Mysterious, mighty existence ! a sum not to be 
lessened by the largest deductions ! an extent not to 
be contracted by all possible diminutions! None can 
truly say, after the most prodigious waste of ages, 
' So much of eternity is gone;' for, when millions of 
centuries are elapsed, it is but just commencing ; and, 
when millions more have run their ample round, it 
will be no nearer ending. Yea, when ages, numerous 
as the bloom of spring, increased by the herbage of 
summer, both augmented by the leaves of autumn, 
and all multiplied by the drops of rain which drown 
the winter — when these and ten thousand times ten 
thousand more — more than can be represented by any 
similitude, or imagined by any conception— when all 
these are revolved and finished, eternity, vast, bound- 
less, amazing eternity, will only be beginning ! 

What a pleasing, yet awful thought is this ! full 
of delight, and full of dread. O ! may it alarm our 
fears, quicken our hopes, and animate all our en- 
deavours ! Since we are so soon to launch into this 
endless and inconceivable state, let us give all dili- 
gence, to secure our entrance into bliss. Now let us 
give all diligence, because there is no alteration in the 
scenes of futurity. The wheel never turns : all is 
stedfast and immoveable beyond the grave. Whether 
* Job xi. 8, 9. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 63 

we are then seated on the throne, or stretched on the 
rack; a seal will be set to our condition by the hand 
of everlasting mercy or inflexible justice. The saints 
always rejoice amidst the smiles of Heaven ; their 
harps are perpetually tuned ; their triumphs admit 
of no interruption, The ruin of the wicked is irre- 
mediable. The fatal sentence, once passed, is never 
to be repealed. No hope of exchanging their doleful 
habitations; but all things bear the same dismal 
aspect for ever and ever. 

The wicked ! my mind recoils at the apprehension 
of their misery. It has studiously waived the fearful 
subject, and seems unwilling to pursue it, even now. 
But 'tis better to reflect upon it for a few minutes, 
than to endure it to eternal ages. Perhaps the con- 
sideration of their aggravated misery may be profit- 
ably terrible ; may teach me more highly to prize the 
Saviour, who 'delivers from going down into the 
bottomless pit ;' may drive me, like the avenger's 
sword, to this only city of refuge for obnoxious 
sinners, 

The wicked seem to lie here, like malefactors, in a 
deep and strong dungeon, reserved against the day of 
trial. ' Their departure was without peace.' Clouds 
of horror sat louring upon their closing eyelids, most 
sadly foreboding the blackness of darkness for ever.' 
When the last sickness seized their frame, and the in- 
evitable change advanced; when they saw the fatal 
arrow fitting to the strings, saw the deadly archer 
aiming at their hearts, and felt the envenomed shaft 
fastened in their vitals— good God ! what fearfulness 
came upon them ! What horrible dread overwhelmed 
them ! How did they stand shuddering and aghast 
upon the tremendous precipice ! excessively afraid to 



64 MEDITATIONS. 

plungs into the abyss of eternity, yet utterly unable 

to maintain their standing on the verge of life. 

O ! what pale reviews, what startling prospects con- 
spire to augment their sorrows ! They look backward I 
and behold ! a most melancholy scene ! sins un- 
repented of ; mercy slighted ; and the day of grace 
ending ! They look forward, and nothing presents 
itself but the righteous Judge, the dreadful tribunal, 
and a most solemn reckoning. They roll around 
their affrighted eyes on attending friends. If accom- 
plices in debauchery, it sharpens their anguish to 
consider this farther aggravation of their guilt, that 
they have not sinned alone, but drawn others into 
the snare. If religious acquaintance, it strikes a fresh 
gash into their hearts, to think of never seeing them 
any more, but only at an unapproachable distance, 
separated by the unpassable gulf. 

At last, perhaps, they begin to pray. Finding no 
other possible way of relief, they are constrained to 
apply unto the Almighty. With trembling lips and 
a faltering tongue, they cry unto that Sovereign 
Being, 'who kills and makes alive.' But why have 
they deferred, so long deferred, their addresses to 
God ? why have they despised all his counsels, and 
stood incorrigible under his incessant reproofs ? How 
often have they been forewarned of these terrors and 
most importunately entreated to seek the Lord while 
he might be found ? I wish they may obtain mercy 
at the eleventh, at the last hour. I wish they may 
be snatched from the jaws, the opened, the gaping, 
the almost closing jaws of damnation. But, alas ! 
who can tell whether affronted Majesty will lend 
an ear to their complaint? whether the Holy One 
will work a miracle of grace in behalf of such trans- 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 65 

gressors ? He may, for aught any mortal knows, 
• laugh at their calamity, and mock when their fear 
cometh.' 

Thus they lie, groaning out the poor remains of 
life ? their limbs bathed in sweat ; their heart strug- 
gling with convulsive throes; pains insupportable 
throbbing in every pulse ; and innumerable darts of 
agony transfixing their conscience. 

In that dread moment, how the frantic soul 

Raves round the walls of her clay tenement; 

Runs to each avenue ; anil shrieks for help; 

But skrieks in vain! How wistfully she looks 

On all she's leaving, now no longer hers ! 

A little longer, yet a little longer, 

O ! might she stay to wash away her crimes, 

And fit her for he'r passage ! Mournful sijrht ! 

Her very eyes weep blood ; and everv groau 

She heaves, is big with horror; but the foe, 

Like a staunch murd'rer, steady to his purpose, 

Pursues her close through ev'ry lane ot life, 

Nor misses once the track ; but presses on ; 

Till forc'd at last to the tremendous verge, 

At once she sinks. Blair's Grave. 

If this be the end of the ungodly, ' my soul, come 
not thou into their secret ! unto their assembly, mine 
honour, be not thou united !' How awfully accom- 
plished is that prediction of inspired wisdom ! Sin, 
though seemingly sweet in the commission, yet at the 
last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an 
adder. Fly therefore from the tents, O ! fly from the 
ways of such wretched men. 

Happy dissolution ! were this the period of their 
■woes. But, alas ! all these tribulations are only * the 
beginning of sorrows ;' a small drop only from that 
' cup of trembling,' which is mingled for their future 
portion. No sooner has the last pang dislodged their 
reluctant souls, but they are hurried into the presence 
of an injured and angry God ; not under the conduct- 
7* 



66 MEDITATIONS 

ing care of beneficent angels, but exposed to the in- 
sults of accursed spirits, who lately tempted them, who 
now upbraid them, and will for ever torment them. 
"Who can imagine their confusion and distress, when 
they stand guilty and inexcusable before their incensed 
Creator? They are received with frowns. The God 
that made them has • no mercy on them.'* The Prince 
of Peace rejects them with abhorrence. He consigns 
them over to chains of darkness and receptacles of de- 
spair, against the severer doom and more public in- 
famy of the great day. Then, all the vials of wrath will 
be emptied upon these wretched creatures. The law 
they have violated, and the Gospel they have slighted ; 
the power they have defied, and the goodness they 
have abused; will all get themselves honour in their 
exemplary destruction. Then God, the God to whom 
vengeance belongeth, will draw the arrow to the very 
head, and set them as the mark to his inexorable 
displeasure. 

Resurrection will be no privilege to them ; but im- 
mortality itself their everlasting curse. Would they 
not bless the grave, * that land where all things are 
forgotten,' and wish to lie eternally hid in its deepest 
gloom ? But the dust refuses to conceal their persons, 
or to draw a veil over their practices. They alio 
must awake ; must arise ; must appear at the bar, and 
meet the Judge; a Judge before whom « the pillars of 
heaven tremble, and the earth melts away ;' a Judge, 
once long-suffering and very compassionate, but 
uow unalterably determined to teach stubborn 
offenders what it is to provoke the Omnipotent God- 
head ; what it is to trample upon the blood of his 

• Isaiah xxvii. 2. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 67 

Son, and offer despite to all the gracious overtures of 
his Spirit. 

O ! the perplexity ! the distraction, that must seize 
the impenitent rebels when they are summoned to 
the great tribunal ! What will they do in this day of 
severe visitation, this day of final decision? Where? 
how? whence can they find help? To which of the 
saints will they turn ? Whither betake themselves 
for shelter or for succour ? Alas ! 'tis all in vain ! 
'tis all too late. Friends and acquaintance know them 
no more ! men and angels abandon them to their 
approaching doom ; even the Mediator, the Media- 
tor himself, deserts them in this dreadful hour. To 
fly, will be impracticable: to justify themselves, still 
more impossible: and now, to make any applications, 
utterly unavailable. 

Behold ! the books are opened ; the secrets of all 
hearts are disclosed; the hidden things of darkness 
are brought to light. How empty, how ineffectual 
now, are all those refined artifices, with which hypo- 
crites imposed upon their fellow-creatures, and pre- 
served a character in the sight of men ! The jealous 
God, who has been about their path, and about their 
bed, and spied out all their ways, sets before them 
the things that they have done. They cannot answer 
him one in a thousand, nor stand in the awful judg- 
ment. The heavens reveal their iniquities, and the 
earth rises up against them.* They are speechless 
with guilt, and stigmatized with infamy before all 
the armies of the sky, and all the nations of the re- 
deemed. What a favour would they esteem it, to 
bide their ashamed heads in the bottom of the ocean, 

* Job xx. 



68 MEDITATIONS 

or even to be buried beneath the ruins of the totter- 
ing world ! 

If the contempt poured upon them be thus insup- 
portable, how will their hearts endure when the sword 
of infinite indignation is unsheathed, and fiercely 
waved around their defenceless heads, or pointed 
directly at their naked breasts ? How must the 
wretches scream with wild amazement, and rend the 
very heavens with their cries, when the right-aiming 
thunderbolts go abroad ?— go abroad with a dreadful 
commission to drive them from the kingdom of 
glory, and plunge them, not into the sorrows of a 
moment, or the tortures of an hour, but into all the 
restless agonies of unquenchable fire and everlasting 
despair.* 

Misery of miseries ! too shocking for reflection to 
dwell upon. But if so dismal to foresee, and that at 
a distance, together with some comfortable expectation 
of escaping it, O ! how bitter, inconceivably bitter, to 
bear, without any intermission, or any mitigation^ 
through hopeless and eternal ages ! 

Who has any bowels of pity ? Who has any senti- 
ments of compassion ? Who has any tender concern 
for his fellow-creatures? Who?— in God's name and 
for Christ's sake, let him show it, by warning every 
man, and beseeching every man, to seek the Lord 
while he may be found, to throw down the arras of 
rebellion before the act of indemnity expires, sub- 
missively to adore the Lamb, while he holds out the 
golden sceptre. Here, let us act the friendly part to 

* Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 
And rest can never duell, hope never conies 
That comes to all, but torture without end 
Still urge:., and a fierv deluge, fed 
With ever-burning sulphur uucousuin'd.— Milton. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 69 

mankind ; here, let the whole force of our benevo- 
lence exert itself, in exhorting relations, acquaint- 
ance, neighbours, whomsoever we may probably in- 
fluence, to take the wings of faith unfeigned, of 
repentance undelayed, and flee away from this wrath 
to come. 

Upon the whole, what stupendous discoveries are 
these ! Lay them up in a faithful remembrance, O 
my soul ; recollect them with the most serious atten- 
tion, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up ; 
when thou walkest, receive them for thy companions ; 
when thou talkest, listen to them as thy prompters ; 
and whatever thou doest, consult them as thy di- 
rectors. Influenced by these considerations, thy views 
will greaten, thy affections be exalted, and thou thy- 
self raised above the tantalizing power of perishing 
things. Duly mindful of these, it will be the sum of 
thy desires and the scope of thy endeavours, to gain 
the approbation of that Sovereign Being who will 
then fill the throne and pronounce the decisive sen- 
tence; thou wilt see nothing worth a wish,* in com- 
parison of having his will for thy rule, his glory for 
thy aim, and the Holy Spirit for thy ever actuating 
principle. 

Wonder, O man ; be lost in admiration at those 
prodigious events which are coming upon the uni- 
verse ; events, the greatness of which nothing finite 
can measure ; such as will cause whatever is consi- 
derable or momentous in the annals of all genera- 
tions to sink into littleness and nothing; events 
(Jesus prepare us for their approach, defend us when 

* Great day of dread, decision, and despair ! 
At thought of thee, each sublunary wish 
Lets go its eager grasp, and quits the world. 

Sight Thoughts. 



70 MEDITATIONS 

they take place !) big with the everlasting fates of all 
the living and the dead. I must see the graves cleav- 
ing, the sea teeming, and swarms unsuspected, crowds 
unnumbered, yea, multitudes of thronging nations, 
rising from both: I must seethe world in flames, 
must stand at the dissolution of all terrestrial things, 
and be an attendant on the burial of nature: I must 
see the vast expanse of the sky wrapt up like a scroll, 
and the incarnate God issuing forth from light in- 
accessible, with ten thousand times ten thousand 
angels, to judge both men and devils : I must see the 
curtain of time drop, see all eternity disclosed to 
view, and enter upon a state of being that will never, 
never have an end. 

And ought I not (let the vainest imagination de- 
termine, ought 1 not) to try the sincerity of my faith, 
and take heed to my ways? Is there an inquiry, is 
there a care, of greater, of equal, of comparable im- 
portance ? Is not this an infinitely pressing call, to 
tee that my loins are girded about, my lamp trimmed, 
and myself dressed for the bridegroom's appearance ? 
that, washed in the fountain opened in my Saviour's 
side, and clad with the marriage-garment wove by his 
obedience, I may be found in peace, unblameable, 
and unreprovable. Otherwise how shall I stand with 
boldness when the stars of heaven fall from their 
orbs ? How shall I come forth erect and courageous, 
when the earth itself reels to and fro like a drunk- 
ard ?* How shall I look up with joy, and see my 
salvation drawing nigh, when the hearts of millions 
and millions fail for fear ? 

Now, madam, lest my meditations set in a cloud, 

and leave any unpleasing gloom upon your mind, let 

* Isaiah xxiv. 20. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 71 

me once more turn to the brightening prospects of 
the righteous. A view of them and their delightful 
expectations may serve to exhilarate the thoughts, 
which have been musing upon melancholy subjects, 
and hovering about the edges of infernal darkness; 
just as a spacious field, arrayed in cheerful green, 
relieves and reinvigorates the eye which has fatigued 
itself by poring upon some minute, or gazing upon 
some glaring object. 

The righteous seem to lie by, in the bosom of the 
earth, as a weary pilot in some well-sheltered creek, 
till all the storms which infest this lower world are 
blown over : here they enjoy safe anchorage, are in 
no danger of foundering amidst the waves of prevail- 
ing iniquity, or of being shipwrecked on the rocks of 
any powerful temptation. But ere long we shall 
behold them hoisting the flag of hope, riding before a 
sweet gale of atoning merit and redeeming love; till 
they make, with all the sails of an assured faith, the 
blessed port of eternal life. 

Then, may the honoured friend to whom I am 
writing, rich in good works, rich in heavenly tem- 
pers, but inexpressibly richer in her Saviour's righ- 
teousness, O ! may she enter the harbour like a gal- 
lant stately vessel, returned successful and victorious 
from some grand expedition, with acclamation, 
honour, and joy ! while my little bark, attendant on 
the solemnity, and a partaker of the triumph, glides 
humbly after, and both rest together in the haven, the 
wished for, blissful haven, of perfect security and 
everlasting repose. 



REFLECTIONS 

ON 

A FLOWER-GARDEN. 

in a letter to a lady. 

Madam, 
Some time ago, my meditations took a turn among 
the tombs: they visited the awful and melancholy 
mansions of the dead;* and you was pleased to fa- 
vour them with your attention. May I now beg the 
honour of your company in a more inviting and de- 
lightful excursion ?— in a beautiful flower-garden, 
where I lately walked, and at once regaled the sense 
and indulged the fancy. 

It was early in a summer morning, when the air 
was cool, the earth moist, the whole face of the 
creation fresh and gay. The noisy world was scarce 
awake : business had not quite shook off his sound 
sleep, and riot had but just reclined his giddy head. 
All was serene, all was still ; every thing tended to 
inspire tranquillity of mind, and invite to serious 
thought.* 

* ' Discourses on the vanity of the creature, which represent 
the barrenness of every thing in this world, and its incapa- 
city of producing 1 any solid or substantial happiness, are use- 
ful. Tho=e speculations also, which show the bright side of 
things, and lay forth those innocent entertainments, which 
are to be met with anion? the several objects that encompass 
us, are no less beneficial.'— Spec. vol. v. No. 393. Upon tfae 
plan of these observations the preceding- and following' re- 
flections are formed 

8 



74 REFLECTIONS ON 

Only the wakeful lark had left her nest, and was 
mounting on high to salute the opening day. Ele- 
vated in air, she seemed to call the laborious hus- 
bandman to his toil, and all her fellow-songsters to 
their notes. Earliest of birds, said I, companion of 
the dawn, may I always rise at thy voice ! rise to 
offer the matin-song, and adore that beneficent Being, 
' who maketh the outgoings of the morning and 
evening to rejoice.' 

How charming to rove abroad at this sweet hour 
of prime, to enjoy the calm of nature, to tread the 
dewy lawns, and taste the unrifled freshness of the 



What a pleasure do the sons of sloth lose ! Little, 
ah! little is the sluggard sensible how delicious an 
entertainment he foregoes, for the poorest of all ani- 
mal gratifications.* 

The grayness of the dawn decays gradually. Abun- 
dance of ruddy streaks tinge the fleeces of the firma- 
ment, till at length the dappled aspect of the east is 
lost in one ardent and boundless blush. Is it the sur- 
mise of imagination or do the skies really redden with 
shame, to see so many supinely stretched on their 

* See ! how revelation and reason, the Scriptures and the 
classics, unanimously exhort to this mo»t beneliei:il practice. 
They both invite us to early rising by the most engaging 1 
motives and the most alluring representations. 

'Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field ; let us 
.odge in the villages. Let us get up early to the vineyards; 
let us see if the vine flourish, whether tile tender °rrape ap- 
pear, and the pomegranates bud forth.'— Cant. \ii. II, Ifc 
Luciferi primo cutn sidere, friuida rura 
Carpamus: dum mane novum, dura gramiim cancnt, 
Et ros in tenera pecori gratisMinus lierba est. 

Virg. Georg. iii. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 75 

drowsy pillows ? Shall man be lost in luxurious ease ? 
Shall man waste these precious hours in idle slumbers, 
while the vigorous sun is up, and going on his 
Maker's errand ? while ail the feathered choir are 
hymning the Creator, and paying their homage in 
harmony? No; let him heighten the melody of the 
tuneful tribes by adding the rational strains of de- 
votion ; let him improve the fragrant oblations of 
nature by miugling with the rising odours the more 
refined breath of praise. 

'Tis natural for man to look upwards, to throw his 
first glance upon the objects that are above him. 
Straight towards liea\'n my wandering eyes I turn'd, 
And gaz'd a while the ample sky. 

Prodigious theatre! where lightnings dart their 
fire, and thunders utter their voice ; where tempests 
spend their rage, and worlds unnumbered roll at 
large ! O the greatness of that mighty hand, which 
meteth out this amazing circumference with a span ! 
O the immensity of that wonderful Being, before 
whom this unmeasurable extent is no more than a 
point ! And O (thou pleasing thought !) the unsearch- 
able riches of that mercy which is greater than the 
heavens'.* is more enlarged and extensive in its 
gracious exercise, than these illimitable tracts of air, 
and sea, and firmament! which pardons crimes of 
the most enormous size and the most horrid aggra- 
vations ; pardons them in consideration of the Re- 
deemer's atonement, with perfect freeness and the 
utmost readiness ! more, readily, if it were possible, 
than this all-surrounding expanse admits within its 
circuit a ridge of mountains, or even a grain of sand. 

Come hither, then ye awakened, trembling sinners; 
* Psal. cviii. 4. 



76 REFLECTIONS ON 

come,* weary and heavy-laden with a sense of your 
iniquities, condemn yourselves; renounce all reliance 
on any thing of your own ; let your trust be in the 
tender mercy of God for ever and ever. 

• In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun.'f 
Behold him coming forth from the chambers of the 
east ; see the clouds, like floating curtains, are thrown 
back at his approach. With what refulgent majesty 
does he walk abroad ! how transcendently bright is 
his countenance, shedding day and inexhaustible light 
through the universe ! Is there a scene, though 
finished by the most elaborate and costly refinements 
of art, • comparable to these illustrious solemnities of 
opening sunshine ? Before these all the studied 
pageantry of the theatre, the glittering economy of an 
assembly, or even the heightened ornaments of a royal 
palace, hide their diminished heads and shrink into 
nothing.' I have read of a person so struck with the 

* The lines which follow are admirably descriptive of the 
spirit and practice hinted above; in them desire pants prayer 
wrestles, and faitli as it were grasp* the pri/e. I t:ike leave 
to transplant them into this place; and 1 con Id wish them a 
better, a more conspicuous situation, than either their new or 
their native soil. Their native soil is no other than 'The 
Lamentations of a Sinner,' written by Mr. Sternhold. Not- 
withstanding the unpromising genius of (he performance, I 
think we may challange the gre.itest masters to produce any 
thing nio-e spirited and importunate, more full of nature, or 
wore flushed with life. 

Mercy, good Lord, mercy I crave; 

This is the total sum ; 
For mercy, Lord, is all my suit: 
Lord, let thy mercy come. 
The short sentences, not a single copulative ; the frequent 
repetition of the divine name; the almost incessant reitera- 
tion of the blessing so passionaielv de«ired, and inexpressibly 
needed ;— this is the genuine language of ardour ; these are 
beauties obvious to every eye, and cannot fail, either to 
please the judicious taste, or to-edifv the gracious heart. 
+ Fsal. xix.' 4. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 77 

splendours of this noble luminary, that he imagined 
himself made on purpose to contemplate its glories. 
O ! that Christians would adopt his persuasion, and 
transfer it to the Sun of Righteousness ! Thus applied, 
it would cease to be a chimerical notion, and become 
a most important truth. For sure I am, it is the su- 
preme happiness of the eternal state, and therefore 
may well be the ruling concern of this present life, to 
know the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom he 
hath sent. Nor do I stand alone in this opinion. The 
very best judge of whatever is valuable in science, or 
perfective of our nature ; a judge who formed his taste 
on the maxims of paradise, and received the finish- 
ings of his education in the third heavens; this judge 
determines to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and 
him crucified. He possessed in his own person the 
finest, the most admired accomplishments, yet pro- 
nounces them no better than dung, in comparison 
of the super-eminent excellency of this saving know- 
ledge.* 

Methinks I discern a thousand admirable proper- 
ties in the sun. 'Tis certainly the best material em- 
blem of the Creator. There is more of God in its 
lustre, energy, and usefulness, than in any other 
visible being. To worship it as a 'deity was the least 
inexcusable of all the heathen idolatries. One scarce 
can wonder that fallen reason should mistake so fair 
a copy for the adorable Original. No comparison in 
the whole book of sacred wisdom pleases me more, 
than that which resembles the blessed Jesus t& 
yonder regent of the day.f who now advances en his 

* Phil. iii. 8. 
+ Unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of Righteous- 
ness arise with healing in his wings. Mai. iv. 2. 



78 REFLECTIONS ON 

azure road to scatter light and dispense gladness 

through the nations. 

What were all the realms of the world, but a 
dungeon of darkness, without the beams of the sun ? 
all their fine scenes hid from our view, lost in ob- 
scurity. In vain we roll around our eyes in the mid- 
night gloom : in vain we strive to behold the features 
of amiable nature. Turn whither we will, no form 
or comeliness appears ; all seems a dreary waste, an 
undistinguished chaos, till the returning hours have 
unbarred the gates of light, and let forth the morn. 
Then, what a prospect opens ! The heavens are 
paved with azure, and strewed with roses. A variety 
of the liveliest verdures array the plains. The flowers 
put on a glow of the richest colours. The whole 
creation stands forth, dressed in all the charms of 
beauty. The ravished eye looks round and wonders. 

And what had been the condition of our intellec- 
tual nature without the great Redeemer, and his 
divine revelation ? Alas ! what absurd and unworthy 
apprehensions did the Pagan sages form of God' 
What idle dreams, what childish conjectures, were 
their doctrines of a future state ! How did the bulk 
even of that favoured nation the Jews, weary them- 
selves in every vanity to obtain peace and reconci- 
liation with their offended Jehovah ! till Jesus arose 
upon our benighted minds, and brought life and im- 
mortality to light: till he arose to enlighted the 
wretched Gentiles, and to be the glory of his people 
Israel. 

Now we no longer cry out with a restless impa- 
tience, ' Where is God my Maker ?' for we are allow- 
ed to contemplate the brightness of his glory, and the 
express image of his person, in the face of Jesus Christ. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 79 

Now we no longer inquire with an unsatisfied solici- 
tude, ' Which is the way to bliss ?' because Jesus has 
marked the path by his shining example, and left us 
an unerring clue in his holy word. Now, we have no 
more reason to proceed with misgiving hearts in our 
journey to eternity, or to ask anxiously as we go, 
« Who will roll away the stone, and open the everlast- 
ing doors ? Who will remove the flaming sword, and 
give us admission into the delights of Paradise ?' for 
it is done, all done, by the Captain of our salvation. 
Sin he has expiated by the unblemished sacrifice of 
himself: the law he has fulfilled by his perfect obedi- 
ence: the sinner he transforms by his sanctifying 
Spirit : in a word, he hath both presented us with a 
clear discovery of good things to come, and adminis- 
tered to us an abundant entrance into the final enjoy- 
ment of them. 

Whenever, therefore, we bless God for the circling 
seasons and revolving day, let us adore, thankfully 
adore him for the more precious appearance of the 
Sun of Righteousness, and his glorious gospel, with- 
out which we should have been groping, even to this 
hour, in spiritual darkness and the shadow of death ; 
without which we must have wandered in a maze of 
inextricable uncertainties, and have ' stumbled upon 
the dark mountains of error, till we fell into the 
bottomless pit of perdition. 

Without that grand enlivening principle, what were 
this earth, but a lifeless mass, a rude lump of inactive 
matter? The trees could never break forth into 
leaves nor the plants spring up into flowers: we 
should no more behold the meadows mantled over 
with green, nor the valleys standing thick with corn : 
or, to speak in the beautiful language of a prophet. 



80 REFLECTIONS ON 

« No longer would the fig-tree blossom, nor fruit be 
in the vine; the labour of the olive would fail, and 
the fields could yield no meat ; the flocks must be 
cut off from the fold, and there would be no herd in 
the stalls.'* The sun darts its beams among all the 
vegetable tribes, and paints the spring and enriches 
the autumn ; this pierces to the roots of the vineyard 
and the orchard, and sets afloat those fermenting 
juices which at length burst into floods of wine, or 
bend the boughs with a mellow load. Nor are its 
favours confined to the upper regions, but distributed 
unto the deepest recesses of creation. It penetrates 
the beds of metal, and finds its way to the place of 
the sapphires : it tinctures the seeds of gold that are 
ripening into ore, and throws a brilliancy into the 
water of the diamond that is hardening on its rock : 
in short, the beneficial agency of this magnificent 
luminary is inexpressible; it beautifies and impreg- 
nates universal nature ; » there is nothing hid from 
the heat thereof.' 

Just in the same manner were the rational world 
dead in trespasses and sins, without the reviving 
energy of Jesus Christ. He is the ' Resurrection and 
the Life;' the overflowing fountain of the one, and 
the all-powerful cause of the other. The second 
Adam is a quickening Spirit, and all his saints live 
through him. He shines upon their affections, and 
they shoot forth into heavenly graces, and abound in 
the fruits of righteousness. Faith unfeigned, and 
love undissembled, those noblest productions of the 
renewed nature, are the effects of his operation on 
the mind. Not so much as one divine disposition 
couid spread itself, not one Christian habit unfold 

• Hab. iii. 17. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 81 

and flourish, without the kindly influence, of his 
grace. 

As there is no fruitfulness, so likewise no cheer- 
fulness, without the sun.* When that auspicious 
sovereign of the day diffuses the mildness of his 
morning splendour, he creates an universal festival, 
Millions of glittering insects awake into existence, 
and bask in his rays : the birds start from their 
slumbers, and pour their delighted souls in harmo*^-, 
the flocks with bleating accents hail the welcome 
blessing: the valleys ring with rural music; the hills 
echo back the artless strains : all that is vocal joins 
in their general choir ; all that has breath exults in 
the cheering influence. Whereas, was that radiant 
orb extinguished, a tremendous gloom would ensue, 
and horror insupportable. Nay, let it only be eclipsed 
for a few minutes, and all nature assumes an air of 
sadness; the heavens are wrapt in sables, and put on 
a kind of mourning; the most sprightly animals hang 
down their dejected heads ; the songsters of the grove 
are struck dumb; howling beasts roam abroad for 
prey; ominous birds come forth and screech; the 
heart of man fails, or a sudden pang seizes the fore- 
boding mind. So, when Christ hides away his face, 
when faith loses sight of that consolation of Israel, 
how gloomy are the prospects of the soul ! Our God 
seems to be a consuming fire, and our sins cry loudly 
for vengeance: the thoughts bleed inwardly; the 
Christian walks heavily ; all without is irksome, all 
within is disconsolate. Lift up then, most gracious 
Jesus, thou noble day-spring from on high ! O lift up 

* 'The sun, which is the great soul of the universe, and 
produces all the necessaries of life, has a particular influence 
in cheering the mind of man and making the heart glad* 
Spect. vol. v. No. 387 



82 REFLECTIONS ON 

the light of thy countenance upon thy people ! Reveal 
the fulness of thy mediatorial sufficiency ; make clear 
our title to this great salvation, and thereby impart 

ltjoy.» 

In one instance more let me pursue the similitude. 
The sun, I observe, pours his lustre all around, to 
every distance and in every direction ; profusely li- 
beral of his gifts, he illuminates and cheers all the 
ends of the earth and the whole compass of the skies ; 
the east reddens with his rising radiance, and the 
western hills are gilded with his streaming splen- 
dours; the chilly regions of the north are cherished 
by his genial warmth, while the southern tracts glow 
with his fire. Thus are the influences of the Sun of 
Righteousness diffusive and unconfined ; the genera- 
tions of old felt them, and generations yet unborn 
will rejoice in them ; the merits of his precious death 
extended to the first and will be propagated to the 
last ages of mankind. May they, ere long visit the 
remotest climates and darkest corners of the earth ! 
Command thy gospel, blessed Jesus, thy everlasting 
gospel, to take the wings of the morning and travel 
with yonder sun ; let it fly upon strong pinions among 
every people, nation, and language; that where the 
heat scorches and the cold freezes, thou mayest be 
known, confessed, and adored ! that strangers to thy 
name and enemies to thy doctrine may be enlightened 
with the knowledge and won to the love of thy 
truth ! O ! may that best of eras come, that wished- 
for period advance, when all the ends of the world 
shall remember themselves an.i be turned unto the 

♦ Pope's Eth. Ep. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 83 

Lord, and all the kindreds of the nations worship 
before him ! ■ 

From the heavens we retire to the earth. Here the 
drops of dew, like so many liquid crystals,! sparkle 
upon the eye. How brilliant and unsullied is their 
lustre .' How little inferior to the proud stone which 
irradiates a monarch's crown ! They want nothing 
but solidity and permanency to equal them with the 
finest treasures of the jeweller's casket. Here it must 
be confessed they are greatly deficient. Short-lived 
ornaments, possessed of little more than a momentary 
radiance ; the sun that lights them up will soon melt 
them into air, or exhale them into vapours ; within 
another hour we may ' look for their place and they 
shall be away.' O ! may every good resolution of 
mine and of my flock's, may our united breathings 
after God, not be like these transient decorations of 
the morning, but like the substantial glory of the 
growing day ! The one shines more and more with 
augmented splendours ; while the other, having glit- 
tered gaily for a few moments, disappear and are 
lost. 

How sensibly has this dew refreshed the vegetable 
kingdom ! The fervent heat of yesterday's sun had 
almost parched the face and exhausted the sweets of 
nature. But what a sovereign restorative are these 
cooling distillations of the night ! How they gladden 
and invigorate the languishing herbs ! Sprinkled with 
these reviving drops, their verdure deepens, their 
bloom is new flushed ; their fragrance faint or inter- 
mitted, becomes potent and copious. Thus does the 

* Pteal. xxii. 57. 
t Now morn, lier rosy stcii- in tli' t-astern clime 



84 REFLECTIONS ON 

ever-blessed Spirit revive the drooping troubled con- 
science of a sinner. When that Almighty Comforter 
sheds his sweet influence on the soul, displays the all- 
sufficient sacrifice of a Divine Redeemer, and ' wit- 
nesses with our spirit,' that we are interested in the 
Saviour, and by this means are children of God ; then 
what a pleasing change ensues ! Former anxieties 
are remembered no more; every uneasy apprehen- 
sion \anishes; soothing hopes and delightful expecta- 
tions succeed ; the countenance drops its dejected 
mien; the eyes brighten with a lively cheerfulness; 
while the lips express the neartfelt satisfaction in the 
language of thanksgiving and the voice of melody. 
In this sense, merciful God, be as the dew unto 
Israel ! • Pour upon them the continual dew of thy 
blessing.' And O ! let not my fleece be dry while 
heavenly benediction descends upon all around. 

Who can number these pearly drops ? They hang 
on every hedge, they twinkle from every spray, and 
adorn the whole herbage of the field. Not a blade of 
grass, not a single leaf, but wears the watery pen- 
dants; so vast is the profusion, that it baffles the 
arithmetician's art. Here let the benevolent mind 
contemplate and admire that emphatical Scripture, 
which from this elegant similitude describes the in- 
crease of the Messiah's kingdom. The royal prophet, 
speaking of Christ, and foretelling the success of his 
religion, has this remarkable expression;* * the dew 
of thy birth is of the womb of the morning;* (i. e ) 
As the morning is the mother of dews, produces them 
as it were from a prolific womb, and scatters them 
with the most lavish abundance over all the surface 
of the earth: so shall thy seed be, O thou everlasting 
* Psal. ex. 3. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 85 

Father ! &y the preaching of thy word shall such an 
innumerable race of regenerate children be born unto 
Thee, and prove an ornament and a blessing to all 
ages. Millions, millions of willing converts from every 
nation under heaven shall crowd into thy family, and 
replenish thy church ; till they become like the stars 
of the sky or the sands of the sea for multitude, or 
even as numberless as these fine spangles which now 
cover the face of nature. Behold, then, ye obstinately 
wicked, though you " are not gathered, yet will the 
Saviour be glorious.' His design shall not miscarry, 
nor his labour prove abortive, though ye render it of 
none effect with regard to yourselves ; think not that 
Immanuel will want believers, or heaven inhabitants, 
because you continue incorrigible. No, the Lamb 
that was slain will « see of the travail of his soul and 
be satisfied,' in a never-failing series of faithful peo- 
ple below, and an immense choir of glorified saints 
above, who shall form his retinue and surround his 
throne in shining and triumphant armies, such as no 
man can number. 

Here I was reminded of the various expedients which 
Providence, unsearchably wise, uses to fructify both 
the material and intellectual world. Sometimes you 
shall have impetuous and heavy showers bursting from 
the angry clouds : they lash the plains and make the 
rivers foam: a storm brings them, and a deluge 
follows them. At other times these gentle dews are 
formed in the serene evening air : they steal down by 
slow degrees and with insensible stillness ; so subtile 
that they deceive the nicest eye; so silent that they 
escape the most delicate ear ; and when fallen, so very 
light, that they neither bruise the tendeiest nor op- 
press the weakest flower. Very different operations! 



86 REFLECTIONS ON 

yet each concurs in the same beneficial end, and both 

impart fertility to the lap of nature. 

So some persons have I known reclaimed from the 
unfruitful works of darkness by violent and severe 
means. The Almighty addressed their stubborn hearts 
as he addressed the Israelites at Sinai, with lightning 
in his eyes and thunder in his voice. The conscience, 
gmit with a sense of guilt, and apprehensive of eternal 
vengeance, trembled through all her powers; just as 
that strong mountain tottered to its centre; pangs of 
remorse and agonies of fear preceded their new birth ; 
they were reduced to the last extremities, almost 
overwhelmed with despair before they found rest in 
Jesus Christ. Others have been recovered from a vain 
conversation by methods more mild and attractive. 
The Father of spirits applied himself to their teach- 
able minds in « a still and small voice :' his grace came 
down as the rain into a fleece of wool, or as those 
softening drops which now water the earth. The 
kingdom of God took place in their souls without 
noise or observation. They passed from death unto 
life, from a carnal to a regenerate state, by almost 
imperceptible advances ; the transition resembled the 
growth of corn ; was very visible when effected, though 
scarce sensible while accomplishing. O thou Author 
and Finisher of our faith, recal us from our wander- 
ings and re-unite us to Thyself! Whether Thou 
alarm us with thy terrors or allure us with thy smiles ; 
whether Thou drive us with the scourge of conviction 
or draw us with the cords of love: let us in any-wise 
return to Thee, for Thou art our supreme good, 
Thou art our only happiness. 

Before I proceed farther, let me ascend the terrace 
and take one survey of the neighbouring country. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 87 

What a prospect rushes upon my sight ! How vast, 
how various, how 'full and plenteous with all manner 
of store !' Nature's whole wealth ! What a rich and 
inexhaustible magazine is here, furnishing subsistence 
for every creature ! Methinks I read in these spacious 
volumes a most lively comment upon that noble cele- 
bration of the divine beneficence; 'He openeth his 
hand and filleth all things living with plenteousness.' 

These are thv glorious works, Parent of Good, 

Almighty ! T'liine this universal frame, 

Thus wondrous fair! Thyself how wondrous then! — Milton. 

The fields are covered deep, and stand thick with 
corn. They expand the milky grain to the sun, while 
the gales, now inclining, now raising each flexible 
stem, open all their ranks to the agency of his beams; 
which will soon impart a firm consistence to the grain, 
and a glossy golden hue to the ear, that they may be 
qualified to fill the barns of the husbandman with 
plenty and his heart with gladness. 

Yonder lie the meadows, smoothed into a perfect 
level, decorated with an embroidery of the gayest 
flowers, and loaded with spontaneous crops of herbage ; 
which, converted into hay, will prove a most commo- 
dious provision for the barrenness of winter, will sup- 
ply with fodder our serviceable animals, when all the 
verdure of the plain is killed by frosts or buried in 
snows. A winding stream glides along the flowery 
margin, and receives the image of the bending skies, 
and waters the roots of many a branching willow : 'tis 
stocked, no doubt with a variety offish, which afford 
a solitary diversion to the angler, and nourish for his 
table a delicious treat ; nor is it the only merit of this 
liquid element to maintain the finny nations ; it also 



88 REFLECTIONS ON 

carries cleanliness and dispenses fruitfulness wherever 
it rolls the crystal current. 

The pastures with their verdant mounds chequer 
the prospect, and prepare a standing repast for our 
cattle; there * our oxen are made strong to labou: 
and our sheep bring forth thousands and ten thou- 
sands;' there the horse acquires vigour for the dis- 
patch of our business, and speed to expedite our 
journeys. From thence the kine bring home their ud- 
ders distended with one of the richest and healthiest 
liquors in the world. 

On several spots, a grove of trees, like some grand 
colonade, erects its towering head; every one pro- 
jects a friendly shade for the beasts, and creates an 
hospitable lodging for the birds; every one stands 
ready to furnish timber for a palace, masts for a navy, 
or, with a more condescending courtesy, fuel for our 
hearths. One of them seems skirted with a wild un- 
cultivated heath, which, like well-disposed shades in 
painting, throws an additional lustre on the more 
ornamented parts of the landscape. Nor is its use- 
fulness, like that of a foil, relative only, but real. 
There several valuable creatures are produced and 
accommodated, without any expense or care of ours. 
There likewise spring abundance of those herbs which 
assuage the smart of our wounds, and allay the fiery 
tumults of the fever; which impart floridity to our 
circulating fluids, and a more vigorous tone to our 
active solids, and thereby repair the decays of our en- 
feebled constitutions. 

Nearer the houses we perceive an ample spread of 
branches, not so stately as the oak's, but more amiable 
for their annual services; a little while ago 1 beneld 
them, and all was one beauteous boundless waste of 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 89 

blossoms ; the eye marvelled at the lovely sight, and 
the heart rejoiced in the prospect of autumnal plenty; 
but now the blooming maid is resigned for the usefUi 
matron ; the flower is fallen, and the fruit swells out 
on every twig. Breathe soft, ye winds ! O, spare the 
tender fruitage, ye surly blasts ! Let the pear-tree 
suckle her juicy progeny, till they drop into our 
hands and dissolve in our mouths ; let the plum hang 
unmolested upon her boughs, till she fatten her deli- 
cious flesh, and cloud her polished skin with blue ; 
and as for the apples, that staple commodity of our 
orchards, let no injurious shocks precipitate them 
immaturely to the ground, till revolving suns have 
tinged them with a ruddy complexion, and concocted 
them into an exquisite flavour. Then, what copious 
hoards, of what burnished rinds and delightful re- 
lishes, will replenish the store-room ! Some to present 
us with an early entertainment, and refresh our pa- 
lates amidst the sultry heats : some to borrow ripeness 
from the falling snows, and carry autumn into the 
depths of winter. Some to adorn the salver, make a 
part of the dessert, and give an agreeable close to our 
feasts. Others to fill our vats with a foaming flood, 
which, mellowed by age, may sparkle in the glass 
with a liveliness and delicacy little inferior to the 
blood of the grape. 

I observe several small inclosures, which seem to 
be apprehensive of some hostile visit from the north, 
and therefore are defended on that quarter by a thick 
wood or a lofty wall ; at the same time they cultivate 
an uninterrupted correspondence with the south, and 
throw open their whole dimensions to its friendly 
warmth. One in particular lies within the reach of 
a distinguishing view, and proves to be a kitchen- 



90 REFLECTIONS ON 

garden ; it looks, methinks, like a plain and frugal 
republic. Whatever may resemble the pomp of courts 
or the ensigns of royalty is banished from this humble 
community. None of the productions of the olitory 
affect finery, but are all habited with the very per- 
fection of decency. Here those celebrated qualities 
are eminently united, the utmost simplicity with the 
exactest neatness. A skilful hand has parcelled out 
the whole ground into narrow beds and intervening 
alleys. The same discreet management has assigned 
to each verdant family a peculiar and distinct abode ; 
so that there is no confusion amidst the great multi- 
plicity, because every individual knows its proper 
home, and all the tribes are ranged with proper re- 
gularity. If it be pleasing to behold their orderly 
situation and their modest beauties, how much more 
delightful to consider the advantages they yield ! 
What a fund of choice accommodations is here! 
What a source of wholesome dainties ! And all for the 
enjoyment of man. Why does the parsley, with her 
frizzled locks, shag the border; or why the celery, 
with her whitening arms, perforate the mould, but to 
render his soups savoury ? The asparagus shoots its 
tapering stems to offer him the first-fruits of the 
season ; and the artichoke spreads its turgid top to 
give him a treat of vegetable marrow. The tendrils 
of the cucumber creep into the sun ; and, though 
basking in its hottest rays, they secrete for their 
master, and barrel up for his use the most cooling 
juices of the soil. The beans stand firm like files of 
embattled troops ; the peas rest upon their props like 
so many companifes of invalids, while both replenish 
their pods with the fatness of the earth on purpose 
to pour it on their owner's table. Not one species. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 91 

among all this variety of herbs, is a cumberer of the 
ground. Not a single plant but is good for food, or 
some way salutary. With so beneficent an economy 
are the several periods of their ministration settled, 
that no portion of the year is left destitute of nou- 
rishing esculents. What is still more obliging, every 
portion of the year affords such esculents as are best 
suited to the temperature of the air and the state of 
our bodies. Why then should the possessor of so 
valuable a spot envy the condition of kings ? since he 
may daily walk amidst rows of peaceable and obse- 
quious, though mute subjects; every one of which 
renders him some agreeable present, and pays him a 
willing tribute, such as is most happily adapted both 
to supply his wants and to regale his taste; to furnish 
him at once with plenty and with pleasure. 

At a distance one descries the mighty hills; they 
heave their huge ridges among the clouds, and look 
like the barriers of kingdoms or the boundaries of 
nature. Bare and deformed as their surface may 
appear, their bowels are fraught with inward trea- 
sures ! treasures lodged fast in the quarries, or sunk 
deep in the mines. From thence industry may draw 
her implements to plough the soil, to reap the grain, 
and procure every necessary convenience. From 
thence art may fetch her materials to rear the dome, 
to swell the organ, and form the noblest ornaments of 
politer life. 

On another side the great deep terminates the view. 
There go the ships : there is that leviathan : and there, 
in that world of waters, an inconceivable number of 
animals have their habitation. This is the capacious 
cistern of the universe: which admits, as into a re- 
ceptacle, and distributes, as from a reservoir, wliat- 



92 REFLECTIONS ON 

ever waters the whole globe. There's not a fountain 
that gushes in the unfrequented desert, nor a rivulet 
that flows in the remotest continent, nor a cloud that 
swims in the highest regions of the firmament, but is 
fed by this all-replenishing source. The ocean is the 
grand vehicle of trade, and the uniter of distant na- 
tions. To us it is peculiarly kind, not only as it wafts 
into our ports the harvests of every climate, and 
renders our island the centre of traffic, but also as it 
secures us from foreign invasion* by a sort of im- 
pregnable entrenchment.* 

Methinks the view of this profuse munificence in- 
spires a secret delight, and kindles a disinterested 
good-will. While the ' little hills clap their hands,' 
and the luxuriant « valleys laugh and sing ;' who can 
forbear catching the general joy ? who is not touched 
with lively sensations of pleasure? While the Ever- 
lasting Father is scattering blessings through his 
whole family, and crowning the year with his good- 
ness ; who does not feel his breast overflowing with 
a diffusive benevolence? My heart, I must confess, 

* Whose rampart was the sea.— Nahum iii. S. 
I hope this little , v.'.ir-i.u, „,.., the count, y "ill not be 
looked upon as ..departure from my Mib.icet ; li.-r.uise a rural 
view, though no essential pari ol a -..r.leu, i, yet a desirable 
appenda-e^and nectary ... complete its beauty. As useful- 
ness is the mo-t valuable property wh.eh can attend upon any 
production, this is the circumstance dually touched upon in 

he survey of the landscape. Tie.iurh e\ciy piece of this ex- 
tensive and diversified scent isca>t in the most eleranl : mould 
vet nothing is calculate .1 merely lor show ami parade. \ o u 
see nothing formed in the ta-te ... the o>te..taliou> obelisk, or 

i,iM,,i>liea ,1 , P ..f the ..warn,:. No such .die «!*'•-« 

were admitted into that consummate pan. whan re._-ula.ed 
the structure of ihe universe. All the decorations ol nature 

are no less advantairi - than ornamental ; such ass, ,-,k the 

Maker inhuitelj beneficent, a, well as incomparably magni- 
ficent. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 93 

beats high with satisfaction, and breathes out con- 
gratulatory wishes upon all the tenants of these rural 
abodes ; ' peace be within your walls, as well as plen- 
teousness around your dwellings.' Live, ye highly 
favoured, live sensible of your benefits, and thankful 
to your Benefactor. Look round upon these prodi- 
giously large incomes of the fruitful soil, and call 
them (for you have free leave) all your own. Only 
let me remind you of one very important truth. Let 
me suggest, and may you never forget, that you are 
obliged to Christ Jesus for every one of these accom- 
modations which spring from the teeming earth and 
the smiling skies. 

1. Christ* made them when they were not. He 
fetched them from utter darkness, and gave them 
both their being and their beauty. He created the 

* When I ascribe the work of creation to the Son, I would 
bv no means be supposed to withhold the same honour from 
tlie Eternal Father and Ever-blessed Spirit. The acts of those 
inconceivably glorious persons are, like their essence, undi- 
vided and one. But i choose to state the point in this manner, 
because this is the manifest doctrine of the New Testament ; 
is the express belief of our church ; and a most noble pecu- 
liarity of the Gospel Revelation. I choose it also, because I 
would take eveiy opportunity of inculcating and celebrating 
the Divinity of the Redeemer; a truth which imparts an 
unutterable dignity to Christianity ; a truth, which lays an 
immovable foundation for all the comfortable hopes of a 
Christian; a truth, which will render the mystery of our re- 
demption, the wonder and delight of eternity ; and with this 
truth, every one will observe, my assertion is inseparably 
connected. 

If any one questions whether this be <he doctrine of our 
church, let the creed, which we repeal in our mo>t solemn 
devotions, determine his doubt; ' I believe,' says that form of 
sound words, ' in one Lord Jesus Christ, very God of vers God, 
by whom all things were made.' If it be 'farther inquired, 
from whence the Nicene Fathers derived this article of their 
faith! I answer from the writings of the beloved disciple who 
lay on the Saviour's bosom, and of that great apostle who 
had been caught up in the third heaven. John i. 3. Col. i. 16 



94 REFLECTIONS ON 

materials of which they are composed, and moulded 
them into this endless multiplicity of amiable forms 
and useful substances. lie arrayed the heavens with 
a vesture of the mildest blue, and clothed the earth 
in a livery of the gayest green. His pencil streaked, 
and his breath perfumed, whatever is beautiful or 
fragrant in the universe. His strength set fast the 
mountains ; His goodness garnished the vales ; and 
the same touch which healed the leper, wrought the 
whole visible system into this complete perfection. 

2. Christ recovered them when they were forfeited. 
By Adam's sin we lost our right to the comforts of 
life and fruits of the ground. His disobedience wa* 
the most impious and horrid treason against the King 
of kings. Consequently his whole patrimony became 
confiscated: as well the portion of temporal good 
things settled upon the human race during their 
minority, as that everlasting heritage reserved for 
their enjoyment when they should come to full age. 
But the ' Seed of the woman' instantly interposing, 
took off the attainder, and redeemed the alienated 
inheritance. The first Adam being disinherited, the 
second Adam* was appointed heir of all things, visible 

* Heb. i. 2. In this sense at least, Christ is the Saviour of 
all men. The former and latter rain ; the precious iruits of 
the earth ; food to eat. and raiment to put on ;— ah these he 
purchased, even for his irreclaimable enemies. They ate of 
his bread, who lift up their herl against Him. 

We learn from hence, in what a peculiar and endearing 
light the Christian is to contemplate the thing* thai are Keen. 
Heathens might discover an eternal povtt-r and infinite wis- 
dom in the structure of the universe ; heathens might ac- 
knowledge a most stupendous liberality in the unreserved 
grant of the whole fabric, with all its furniture, to the service 
of man : but the Christian should ever keep in mind his for- 
feiture cf them, and the price paid to redeem them. He 
should receive the gifts of iudnlgcu 1'iovuleiice, as the 
Israelites received their law, from the hand of a Mediator 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 95 

as well as invisible. And we hold our possession of 
the former, we expect an instatement in the latter, 
purely by virtue of our alliance to Him, and our 
union with him. 

3. Christ upholds them, which would otherwise 
tumble into ruin. By Him, says the Oracle of In- 
spiration, all things consist. His finger rolls the 
seasons round, and presides over all the celestial re- 
volutions. His finger winds up the wheels, and im- 
pels every spring of vegetative nature. In a word, 
the whole weight of the creation rests upon his 
mighty arm, and receives the whole harmony of its 
motion from his unerring eye. This habitable globe, 
with all its rich appendages and fine machinery, 
could no more continue than they could create them- 
selves. Start they would into instant confusion, or 
drop into their primitive nothing, did not his power 
support, and his wisdom regulate them every mo- 
ment. In conformity to his will, they subsist sted- 
fast and invariable in their orders, and wait only for 
his sovereign nod, to ' fall away like water that 
runneth apace.' 

4. Christ* actuates them, which would otherwise 
be lifeless and insignificant. Pensioners they are, 
constant pensioners on his bounty ; and borrow their 
all from his fulness. He only has life ; and whatever 

Or rather, to him they come, not only issuing from the stores 
of an unbounded bountv, but swimming (as it were) in that 
crimson tide which streamed from lmmanuel's veins. 

* John v. 17. My Kather worketh hitherto, and i work : or, 
I exert that unremitting and unwearied energy which is the 
life of the creation. Thus the words are paraph rased bv a 
masterly expositor, who has illustrated the life of our blessed 
Lord in" the most elegant taste of criticism, with the most 
amiable spirit of devotion, and without any mixture of the 
malignant leaven or low singularities of a party. See the Fa- 



96 REFLECTIONS ON 

operates, operates by an emanation from his all-suffl- 
ciency. Does the grape refresh you with its enliven- 
ing juices? It is by a warrant received, and virtue 
derived, from the Redeemer. Does bread strengthen 
your heart, and prove the staff of your life? Re- 
member, that it is by the Saviour's appointment and 
through the efficacy of his operation. You are 
charmed with his melody, when the ' time of the 
singing of birds is come, and the voice of the nightin- 
gale is heard in your land.' You taste his goodness 
in the luscious fig, the melting peach, and the musky 
flavour of the apricot. You smell his sweetness in the 
opening honeysuckle and every odoriferous shrub. 

Could these creatures speak for themselves, they 
would doubtless disclaim all sufficiency of their own, 
and ascribe the whole honour to their Maker. * We 
are servants,' would they say, * of Him who died for 
you. Cisterns only, dry cisterns in ourselves, we 
transmit to mortals no more than the uncreated foun- 
tain transfuses into us. Think not that from any 
ability of our own we furnish you with assistance, 
or administer to your comfort 'Tis the divine 
energy, the divine energy alone that works in us 
and does you good. We serve you, O ye sons of 
men, that you may love Him who placed us in these 
stations. O ! love the Lord, therefore, all ye who 
are supported by our ministry, or else we shall* 
groan with indignation and regret at your abuse of 
our services. Use us, and welcome, for we are 
yours, if ye are Christ's. Crop our choicest beauties ; 
rifle all our treasures; accommodate yourselves 
with our most valuable qualities ; only let us be in- 

* Rom. viii. 12. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 97 

centives to your gratitude, and motives to your obe- 
dience.' 

Having surveyed the spacious sky, and sent a 
glance round the inferior creation ; 'tis time to de- 
scend from this eminence, and confine my attention 
to the beautiful spot below. — Here Nature, always 
pleasing, every where lovely, appears with peculiar 
attractions. Yonder she seems dressed in her dis- 
habille; grand, but irregular; here, she calls in her 
handmaid Art, and shines in all the delicate orna- 
ments which the nicest cultivation is able to convey. 
Those are her common apartments where she lodges 
her ordinary guests ; this is her cabinet of curiosities, 
where she entertains her intimate acquaintance. 
My eye shall often expatiate over those scenes of 
universal fertility, my feet shall sometimes brush 
through the thicket, or traverse the lawn, or stroll 
along the forest glade: but to this delightful retreat 
shall be my chief resort. Thither will I make excur- 
sions, but here will I dwell. 

If, from my low procedure, I may form an allusion 
to the most exalted practices, I would observe upon 
this occasion, that the celebrated Erasmus, and our 
judicious Locke, having trod the circle of the sciences, 
and ranged through the whole extent of human lite- 
rature, at length betook themselves solely to the 
Bible. Leaving the sages of antiquity, they sat in- 
cessantly at the feet of Jesus. Wisely they with- 
drew from that immense multiplicity of learning, 
from those endless tracts of amusing erudition, where 
noxious weeds are mixed with wholesome herbs, 
where is generally a much larger growth of prickly 
shrubs than of fruitful boughs. They spent their 
most mature hours in those hallowed gardens which 
10 



98 REFLECTIONS ON 

God's own wisdom planted; which God's own Spirit 
watereth ; and in which God's own Son is continually 
walking; where he meeteth those that seek Him, 
and revealeth to them the glories of his person and 
the riches of his goodness. 

Thus would I finish the remainder of my days ! 
Having just tasted (what they call) the politer stu- 
dies, I would now devote my whole application to 
the lively oracles. From other pursuits I might 
glean peihaps a few scattered fragments of low, of 
lean, of unsatisfactory instruction. From this, I 
trust to reap a harvest of the sublimest truths, the 
noblest improvements, and the purest joys. Waft 
me then, O ! waft my mind to Sion's consecrated 
bowers. Let my thoughts perpetually rove through 
the awfully-pleasing walks of inspiration. Here 
grow those heaven-born plants, the trees of life and 
knowledge, whose ambrosial fruits we may now « take 
and eat, and live for ever.' Here flow those pre- 
cious streams of grace and righteousness, whose 
living waters « whosoever drinks shall thirst no more.' 
And, what can the fables of Grecian song, or the 
finest pages of Roman eloquence— what can they 
exhibit in any degree comparable to these matchless 
prerogatives of Revelation ? Therefore, though I 
should not dislike to pay a visit now and then to my 
heathen masters, I would live with the prophets and 
apostles. With those, I would carry on some occa- 
sional correspondence; but these should be my bosom- 
friends, my inseparable companions, « my delight, 
and my counsellors.' 

What sweets are these, which so agreeably salute 
my nostrils ? They are the breath of the flowers, the 
incense of the garden. How liberally does the jes- 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 99 

Bamine dispense her odoriferous riches ! How deli- 
riously has the woodbine embalmed this morning 
walk ! The air is all perfume. And is not this and 
other most engaging argument to forsake the bed of 
sloth ! Who would lie dissolved in senseless slum- 
bers, while so many breathing sweets invite him to a 
feast of fragrancy ? Especially considering, that the 
advancing day will exhale the volatile dainties. A 
fugitive treat they are, prepared only for the wakeful 
and industrious: whereas, when the sluggard lifts 
his heavy eyes, the flowers will droop, their fine 
scents be dissipated, and instead of this refreshing 
humidity, the air will become a kind of liquid fire. 

With this very motive, heightened by a represen- 
tation of the most charming pieces of morning sce- 
nery, the parent of mankind awakes his lovely con- 
sort. There is such a delicacy in the choice, and so 
much life in the description, of these rural images, 
that I cannot excuse myself without repeating the 
whole passage. Whisper it, some friendly genius, 
in the ear of every one who is now sunk in sleep, 
and lost to all these refined gratifications ! 

Awake! tlie morning shines, and the fresh field 
Calls yon : ye lose the prime, to mark how spring 
The tended plants, how blous the citron grove; 
YVh;it drops ihe myrrh, and what the balmy reed; 
How nature paints' her colours; how the bee 
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweets.* 

How delightful is this fragrance ! It is distributed 
in the nicest proportion ; neither so strong as to op- 
press the organs, nor so faint as to elude them. We 
are soon cloyed at a sumptuous banquet ; but this 
pleasure never leses its poignancy, never palls the 
appetite. Here luxury itself is innocent ; or rather, 
* Milt. Par. Lost, b. v. 20. 



100 REFLECTIONS ON 

in this case, indulgence is incapable of excess. This 
balmy entertainment not only regales the sense, but 
cheers the very soul;* and, instead of clogging, 
elates its powers. It puts me in mind of that ever- 
memorable sacrifice which was once made in behalf 
of offending mortals. I mean the sacrifice of the 
blessed Jesus, when He offered up himself to God 
* for a sweet-smelling savour.' Such the Holy Spirit 
styles that wonderful oblation ; as if no image in the 
whole sensible creation was so proper to give us an 
idea of the ineffable satisfaction which the Father 
of Mercies conceived from that unparalleled atone- 
ment, as the pleasing sensations which such rich per- 
fumes are capable of raising. * Thousands of rams, 
and ten thousands of rivers of oil,' from an apostate 
world, the most submissive acknowledgments, added 
to the most costly offerings, from men of defiled 
hands and unclean lips, what could they have ef- 
fected? A prophet represents the « High and Lofty 
One that inhabiteth Eternity,' turning himself away 
from such filthy rags, turning himself away with a 
disdainful abhorrence,! as from the noisome steams 
of a dunghill ; but in Christ's immaculate holiness, 
in Christ's consummate obedience, in Christ's most 
precious blood-shedding, with what unimaginable 
complacency does justice rest satisfied, and venge- 
ance acquiesce 1 All thy works, O thou surety for 
ruined sinners ! all thy sufferings, O thou slaughtered 
Lamb of God ! as well as all thy garments, O thou 
bridegroom of thy church ! smell of myrrh, aloes, 
and cassia !£ They are infinitely more grateful to 
the eternal Godhead, than the choicest exhalations of 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 101 

the garden, than all the odours of the spicy east, can 
be to the human nostrils. 

As the altar of old sanctified the gift, so this is 
the great propitiation which recommends the ob- 
noxious persons and unprofitable services of the be- 
lieving world ; in this may my soul be interested ! 
by this may it be reconciled to the Father ! There is 
such a leprous depravity cleaving to my nature, as 
pollutes whatever I perform : my most profound 
adorations and sincerest acts of religion must not 
presume to challenge a reward, but humbly implore 
forgiveness:* renouncing therefore myself in every 
instance of duty, disclaiming all shadow of confi- 
dence in any deeds of my own, may I now and ever- 
more he accepted through the Beloved ! 

What colours, what charming colours are here! 
these so nobly bold, and those so delicately languid ! 
what a glow is enkindled in some, what a gloss shines 
upon others ! in one, methinks, I see the ruby with 
her bleeding radiance, in another the sapphire with 
her sky-tinctured blue, in all such an exquisite rich- 
ness of dyes, as no other set of paintings in the uni- 
verse can boast, f With what a masterly skill is 

* A writer of distinguished superiority thus addresses the 
preat Observer of actions and Searcher of hearts, and vindi- 
cates my sentiments while he so justly and beautifully utters 
his own : 

Look down, great God, with pity's softest eye, 

On a poor breathing particle of'dust. 

His crimes forgive, forgive his virtues too, 

Those smaller faults, half converts to the right. 

Night Thoughts, N. ix 

+ — — - Who can paint 

Like nature! Can imagination boast, 

Amid his gay creation, hues like these? 

And can he mix them with that matchless skill, 

And lay them on so delicately fine, 

And lose them in each other," as appears 

In every bud that blows ' Thomson's Spring. 



102 REFLECTIONS ON 

every one of the varying tints disposed ! Here they 
seem to be thrown on with an easy dash of security 
and freedom, there they are adjusted by the nicest 
touches of art and accuracy ; those which form the 
ground are always so judiciously chosen, as to 
heighten the lustre of the superadded figures, while 
the verdure of the impalement, or the shadings of 
the foliage, impart new liveliness to the whole: in- 
deed, whether they are blended or arranged, softened 
or contrasted, they are manifestly under the conduct 
of a taste that never mistakes, a felicity that never 
falls short of the very perfection of elegance. Fine, 
inimitably fine, is the texture of the web on which 
these shining treasures are displayed. What are the 
labours of the Persian looms, or the boasted commo- 
dities of Brussels, compared with these curious manu- 
factures of nature? compared with these, the most 
admired chintzes lose their reputation, even superfine 
cambrics appear coarse as canvas in their presence. 

What a cheering argument does our Saviour derive 
from hence, to strengthen our affiance in God ! He 
directs us to learn a lesson of heaven-depending faith 
from every bird that wings the air, and from every 
flower that blossoms in the field. If Providence, with 
unremitted care, supports those inferior creatures, 
and arrays these insensible beings with so much splen- 
dour, surely He will in no wise withhold from his 
elect children « bread to eat, and raiment to put on.' 
Ye faithful followers of the Lamb, dismiss every low 
anxiety relating to the needful sustenance of life. 
He that feeds the ravens, from an inexhaustible 
magazine: He th*t paints the plants with such sur- 
passing elegance: in short, He that provides so 
liberally both for the animal and vegetable parts of 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 103 

his creation, will not, cannot neglect his own people. 
Fear not, little flock, ye peculiar objects of Almighty 
love ! it is your Father's good pleasure to give you a 
kingdom.* And, if he freely gives you an everlasting 
kingdom hereafter, is it possible to suppose that He 
will deny you any necessary conveniences here? 

One cannoc forbear reflecting in this place, on the 
too prevailing humour of being fond and ostentatious 
of dress. What an abject and mistaken ambition is 
this! How unworthy the dignity of immortal, and 
the wisdom of rational beings ! Especially, since 
these little productions of the earth have indisputably 
the pre-eminence in such outward embellishments. 
Go, clothe thyself with purple and fine linen, trick 
thyself up in all the gay attire which the shuttle or 
the needle can furnish ; yet know, to the mortifica- 
tion of thy vanity, that the native elegance of a 
common daisy eclipses all this elaborate finery. Nay, 
wert thou decked like some illustrious princess on 
her coronation-day, in all the splendour of royal 
apparel ; couldst thou equal even Solomon in the 
height of his magnificence and glory, yet would the 
meanest among the flowery populace outshine thee ; 
every discerning eye would give the preference to 
these beauties of the ground.f Scorn then to borrow 
thy recommendations from a neat disposition of 
threads, and a curious arrangement of colours: as- 
sume a becoming greatness of ifemper: let thy en- 
dowments be of the immortal kind : study to be all 
glorious within: be clothed with humility : wear tha 



* Luke xii. 32. 

+ .Mr Cowley, with his usual brilliancy of imaginstion. 
styles them stars of earth. 



104 REFLECTIONS ON 

ornament of a meek and quiet spirit :* to say all in 
a word, put on the Lord Jesus Christ ;f let his blood 
be sprinkled upon thy conscience, and it shall be 
whiter than the virgin snows : let his righteousness, 
like a spotless robe, adorn thy inner man ; and thou 
shalt be amiable, even in the most distinguished eye 
of God. Let his blessed Spirit dwell in thy heart ; 
and, under his sanctifying operations, thou shalt be 
made partakers of a Divine Nature. 

These are real excellencies ; truly noble accomplish- 
ments these. In this manner be arrayed, be beauti- 
fied; and thou wilt not find a rival in the feathers of 
a peacock, or the foliation of a tulip. These will 
exalt thee far above the low pretensions of lace and 
embroidery. These will prepare thee to stand in the 
beatified presence, and to take thy seat among the 
angels of light. 

What an enchanting situation is this ! One can 
scarce be melancholy within the atmosphere of 
flowers. Such lively hues and delicious odours, not 
only address themselves agreeably to the senses, but 
touch, with a surprising delicacy, the sweetest move- 
ments of the mind. 



How often have I felt them dissipate the gloom of 
thought, and transfuse a sudden gaiety through the 

* How beautifully does the prophet describe the furniture 
of a renewed and heavenly mind under the similitude of a 
rich and complete suit of apparel ! I will greatly rejoice in 
the Lord: my soul shall be joyful in iny God, for he hath 
clothed me with the garments of salvation: he hath covered 
me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh 
himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with 
her jewels.— Isa. Ixi. 10. 

t Rom. xiii. 14. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 105 

dejected spirit ! I cannnot wonder that kings descend 
from their thrones to walk amidst blooming ivory and 
gold, or retire from the most sumptuous feast, to be 
recreated with the more refined sweets of the garden. 
I cannot wonder that queens forego for a while the 
compliments of a nation, to receive the tribute of the 
parterre; or withdraw from all the glitter of a court, 
to be attended with the more splendid equipage of a 
bed of flowers. But, if this be so pleasing, what 
transporting pleasure must arise from the fruition of 
uncreated Excellency ! O, what unknown delight to 
enter into thy immediate presence, most blessed Lord 
God ! to see thee,* thou King of Heaven, and Lord 
of Glory, no longer * through a glass darkly, but 
face to face !' to have all thy goodness, all thy great- 
ness, shine before us ; and be made glad for ever with 
the brightest discovery of thy perfections, Avith the 
ineffable joy of thy countenance ! 

This we cannot bear, in our present imperfect state. 
The effulgence of unveiled Divinity would dazzle a 
mortal sight. Our feeble faculties would be over- 
whelmed with such a fulness of superabundant bliss, 
and must lie oppressed under such an exceeding 
great, eternal weight of glory. But when this cor- 
ruptible hath put on incorruption, the powers of the 
soul will be greatly invigorated; and these earthly 
tabernacles will be transformed into the likeness of 

* Isaiah represents the felicity of the righteous, in the ever- 
lasting- world, by this elegant and 'amiable image ; 'Thine 
eyes shall see the King in his beaut}.' Milton touches the 
same subject, with wonderful elevation and majesty of 
thought : 

They walk with God, 

High in salvation, and the climes of bliss : 
words, which like the fierv car, almost transports our affec- 
tions to those glorious abodes. Isai. xxxiii. 17. Milt. b. xi. 707. 



106 REFLECTIONS ON 

Christ's glorious body. Then, • though the moon 
shall be confounded, and the sun ashamed,'* when 
the Lord of Hosts is revealed from heaven, yet shall 
his faithful people be enabled to see Him as He is.t 

Here then, my wishes, here be fixed. Be this your 
determined and invariable aim. Here, my affections, 
here give a loose to your whole ardour. Cry out in 
the language of inspiration : ' This one thing have I 
desired of the Lord, which, with incessant earnest- 
ness I will require, — that I may dwell in the celestial 
house of the Lord all the days of my future life, to 
behold the fair beauty of the Lord,:): and to contem- 
plate with wonder and adoration, with unspeakable 
and everlasting rapture, all the attributes of the in- 
comprehensible Godhead.' 

Solomon, a most penetrating judge of human na- 
ture knowing how highly mankind is charmed with 
the fine qualities of flowers, has figured out the blessed 
Jesus, that 'fairest among ten thousand,' by these 
lovely representatives. He styles him « The rose ot" 
Sharon, '§ and ' The lily of the valleys ;'|| like the 
first, full of delights and communicable graces ; like 
the last, exalted in majesty, and complete in beauty. 
In that sacred pastoral, he ranges the creation, bor- 
rows its most finished forms, and dips his pencil in its 

* Is.i. wiv. S3. + I .lohniii. 2. J Psal.xxvii. 4. $ Cant. ii. I. 

H P.y the lily of tin- vallevs, [ appn bend, is meant, not the 

flower which commonly passes under that denomination* and 

is comparatively mean; but (he grind majestic garden lily, 
growing in a 'rich irriguotis soil, where it nourishes in the 
'most ample manner, and arrives at the highest perfection. 
The circumstance <>f the vallevs, added bv tne sacred uriter, 
i- significant not of the species, but of the place. This is by 
far the noblest interpretation, an. I most exactly suitable to 
the spiritual sense, which intimites, that the biessed Jesus 
delimits to dwell, by the communications of his Spirit, in 
humble hearts. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 107 

choicest dyes, to present us with a sketch of the 
araiableness of his person. His amiableness, who is 
the light of the world, the glory of his church, the 
only hope, the sovereign consolation of sinners, and 
exalted, infinitely exalted, not only above the sub- 
limest comparison, but even 'above all blessing and 
praise.' May I also make the same heavenly use of 
all sublunary enjoyments ! Whatever is pleasurable 
or charming below, let it raise my desire to those de- 
lectable objects which are above ; which will yield, 
not partial, but perfect felicity ; not transient, but 
never-ending satisfaction and joy. Yes, my soul, let 
these beauties in miniature always remind thee of 
that glorious person, in whom * dwells all the fulness 
of the Godhead, bodily.' Let these little emanations 
teach thee to thirst after the eternal fountain. O ! 
may the creatures be thy constant clue to the Creator ! 
For this is a certain truth, and deserves thy frequent 
recollection, demands thy most attentive considera- 
tion,— that the whole compass of finite perfection is 
only a faint ray,* shot from that immense source—? 
is only a small drop, derived from that inexhaustible 
ocean — of all good. 

What a surprising variety is observable among the 
flowery tribes ! How has the bountiful hand of Pro- 
vidence diversified these nicest pieces of his work- 
manship ; added the charms of an endless novelty to 
all the other perfections ! A constant uniformity 
would soon render the entertainment tiresome or in- 
sipid ; therefore every species is formed on a sepa- 

* Thou sitt'st above all heav'ns 

To us invisible, or dimly seen 

In these thy lowest works : yet these declare 

Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine. 



108 REFLECTIONS ON 

rate plan, and exhibits something entirely new. The 
fashion spreads not from family to family ; but every 
one has a mode of its own, which is truly original. 
The most cursory glance perceives an apparent dif- 
ference, as well as a peculiar delicacy, in the airs and 
habits, the attitude and lineaments, of every distinct 
class. 

Some rear their heads with a majestic mien, and 
overlook, like sovereigns or nobles, the whole par- 
terre. Others seem more moderate in their aims, and 
advance only to the middle stations ; a genius turned 
for heraldry might term them the gentry of the border. 
While others, free from all aspiring views creep un- 
ambitiously on the ground, and look like the com- 
monalty of the kind. Some are intersected with 
elegant stripes, or studded with radiant spots. Some 
affect to be genteelly powdered, or neatly fringed : 
while others are plain in their aspect, unaffected in 
their dress, and content to please with a naked sim- 
plicity. Some assume the monarch's purple ; some 
look most becoming in the virgin's white ; but black, 
doleful black, has no admittance into the wardrobe of 
Spring. The weeds of mourning would be a mani- 
fest indecorum, when Nature holds an uni\ ersal festi- 
val. She would, now, inspire none but delightful 
ideas; and therefore always makes her appearance in 
some amiable suit. Here stands a warrior, clad with 
crimson; there sits a magistrate, robed in scarlet; and 
yonder struts a pretty fellow, that seems to have 
dipped his plumes in the rainbow, and glitters in all 
the gay colours of that resplendent arch. Some rise 
into a curious cup, or fall into a set of beautiful bells. 
Some spread ihemselves in a swelling tuft, or crowd 
into a delicious cluster. In some, the predominant 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 109 

stain softens by the gentlest diminutions, till it has 
even stole away from itself. The eye is amused at 
the agreeable delusion ; and we wonder to find our- 
selves insensibly decoyed into a quite different lustre. 
In others, you would think the fine tinges were 
emulous of pre-eminence. Disdaining to mingle, they 
confront one another with the resolution of rivals, de- 
termined to dispute the prize of beauty ; while each 
is improved by the opposition into the highest viva- 
city of complexion. 

How manifold are thy works,* O Lord .' multi- 
plied even to a prodigy. Yet in wisdom, consummate 
wisdom, hast thou made them all. How I admire the 
vastness of the contrivance, and the exactness of the 
execution! Man, feeble man, with difficulty accom- 
plishes a single work. Hardly, and after many efforts, 
does he arrive at a tolerable imitation of some one 
production of nature. But the Almighty artist spoke 
millions of substances into instantaneous being, the 
whole collection wonderfully various, and each indi- 
vidual completely perfect. Repeated experiments 
generally, I might say, always, discover errors or de- 
fects in our happiest inventions. Nay, what wins our 
approbation at the present hour or in this particular 
place, is very probably, in some remote period or 
some distant clime, treated with contempt. Whereas, 
these fine structures have pleased every taste, in 
every country, for almost six thousand years. Nor 
has any fault been detected in the original plan, not 
any room left for the least improvement from the 
first model.f All our performances, the more mi- 
* Psalm civ. 24. 

t Eccles. Iii. 14. I know that whatsoever God doth, it shall 
be for ever ; nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken 
from it. 

11 



110 REFLECTIONS ON 

nutely they are scanned, the more imperfect they ap- 
pear with regard to these delicate objects, the more 
we search into their properties, the more we are ra- 
vished with their graces. They are sure to disclose 
fresh strokes of the most masterly skill, in proportion 
to the attention with which they are examined. 

Nor is the simplicity of the operation less asto- 
nishing than the accuracy of the workmanship or the 
infinitude of the effects. Should you ask, ' Where 
and what are the materials which beautify the bloom- 
ing world ? what rich tints, what splendid dyes, what 
stores of shining crayons, stand by the Heavenly 
Limner when he paints the robe of nature?' 'Tis 
answered, His powerful pencil needs no such costly 
apparatus. A single principle, under his conducting 
hand, branches out into an immensity of the most 
varied and most finished forms. The moisture of the 
earth and of the circumambient air, passed through 
proper strainers and disposed in a range of pellucid 
tubes ; this performs all the wonders, and produces 
all the beauties of vegetation. This creeps along the 
fibres of the low-spread moss, and climbs to the very 
tops of the lofty-waving cedars. This, attracted by 
the root, and circulating through invisible canals; 
this bursts into gems, expands itself into leaves, and 
clothes the forest with all its verdant honours. This 
one plain and simple cause gives birth to all the charms 
which deck the youth and maturity of the year. This 
blushes in the early hepatica, and flames in the late 
advancing poppy. This reddens into blood in the 
veins of the mulberry, and attenuates itself into 
leafen gold, to create a covering for the quince. 
This breathes in all the fragrant gales of our garden, 
and weeps odorous gum in the groves of Arabia. So 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. Ill 

wonderful is our Creator in coupe?], and so excellent 
in working !* 

In a grove of tulips, or a knot of pinks, one per- 
ceives a difference in almost every individual. Scarce 
any two are turned and tinctured exactly alike. Each 
allows himself a little particularity in his dress, 
though all belong to one family : so that they are va- 
rious, and yet the same. A pretty emblem this, of 
the smaller differences between Protestant Christians. 
There are modes in religion which admit of varia- 
tion, without prejudice to sound faith or real holi- 
ness; just as the drapery on these pictures of the 
spring may be formed after a variety of patterns, with, 
out blemishing their beauty or altering their nature. 
Be it so then, that in some points of inconsiderable 
consequence several of our brethren dissent ; yet let 
us all live amicably and sociably together, for we 
harmonize in principles, though we vary in punc- 
tilios. Let us join in conversation, and intermingle 
interests; discover no estrangement of behaviour, 
and cherish no alienation of affection. If any strife 
subsists, let it be to follow our divine Master most 
closely in humility of heart and unblameableness of 
life : let it be to serve one another most readily in all 
the kind offices of a cordial friendship. Thus shall 
we be united, though distinguished; united in the 
same grand fundamentals, though distinguished by 
some small circumstantials ; united in one important 
bond of brotherly love, though distinguished by some 
slighter peculiarities of sentiment. 

Between Christans, whose judgments disagree only 
about a form of prayer or manner of worship, I ap- 
prehend there is no more essential difference than 
* Isa. xxviii. 29. 



112 REFLECTIONS ON 

between flowers which bloom from the same kind of 
seed, but happen to be somewhat diversified in the 
mixture of their colours. Whereas if one denies the 
divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ, and degrades the 
incarnate God to the meanness of a mere creature ; 
if another cries up the worthiness of human works, 
and depreciates the alone-meritorious righteousness of 
the glorious Mediator; if a third addresses the incom- 
municable honours to a finite being, and bows to the 
image, or prays to the saint — these are errors ex- 
tremely derogatory to the Redeemer's dignity, and not 
a little prejudicial to the comfort of his people: 
against these to remonstrate, against these to urge 
every argument and use every dissuasive, bespeaks 
not the censorious bigot, but the friend of truth, and 
the lover of mankind. Whereas to stand neuter and 
silent while such principles are propagated, would be 
an instance of criminal remissness rather than of 
Christian moderation. For the persons, we will not 
fail to maintain a tender compassion; we will not 
cease to put up earnest intercessions; we will also 
acknowledge and love whatever is excellent and 
amiable in their character ; yet we dare not subscribe 
their creed: we cannot remit our assiduous but kind 
endeavours, if by any means we may reconcile them 
to a more scriptural belief and a purer worship.* 

* In some former editions, I expressed myself on this point 
unwarily and harshly. But my meaning anil real sentiments 
were no other than those represented above. The reader, 
from such unguarded intimations, might too naturally be led 
to conclude, that the author avows, and would stir Up. a spirit 
of persecution. But this is a method of dealing with oppo- 
nents in religious doctrines, which he disclaims as absurd, 
and abhors as iniquitous. He is for no force, but that of 
rational conviction ; for no constraint, but that of affectionate 
persuasion. Thus, if you please, compel them to come in. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 113 

Another circumstance recommending and endear- 
ing the flowery creation, is their regular succession. 
They make not their appearance all at once, but in 
an orderly rotation. While a proper number of these 
obliging retainers are in waiting, the others abscond ; 
but hold themselves in a posture of service, ready to 
take their turn, and fill each his respective station the 
instant it becomes vacant. — The snowdrop, foremost 
of the lovely train, breaks her way through the frozen 
soil, in order to present her early compliments to her 
Lord: dressed in the robe of innocency, she steps 
forth, fearless of danger, long before the trees have 
ventured to unfold their leaves, even while the icicles 
are pendant on our houses. — Next peeps out the 
crocus, but cautiously, and with an air of timidity. 
She hears the howling blasts, and skulks close to her 
low situation. Afraid she seems to make large ex- 
cursions from her root, while so many ruffian winds 
are abroad, and scouring along the ether. Nor is the 
violet last in this shining embassy of the year; which 
with all the embellishments that would grace a royal 
garden, condescends to line our hedges, and grow at 
the feet of briars. Freely, and without any solicita- 
tion, she distributes the bounty of her emissive sweets ; 
while herself, with an exemplary humility, retires 
from sight, seeking rather to administer pleasure 
than to win admiration. — Emblem, expressive em- 
blem, of those modest virtues, which delight to bloom 
in obscurity, v/hich extend a cheering influence to 
multitudes who are scarce acquainted with the source 
of their comforts ! Motive, engaging motive, to that 
ever active beneficence, which stays not for the im- 
portunity of the distressed, but anticipates their suit 
and prevents them with the blessings of its goodness' 
11* 



114 REFLECTIONS ON 

—The poor polyanthus, that lately adorned the bor- 
der with her sparkling beauties, and, transplanted 
into our windows, gave us a fresh entertainment, is 
now no move. I saw her complexion fade, I perceiv- 
ed her breath decay, till at length she expired, and 
dropped into her grave.— Scarce have we sustained 
this loss, but in comes the auricula, and more than 
retrieves it. Arrayed she comes, in a splendid variety 
of amiable forms ; with an eye of crystal, and gar- 
ments of the most glossy stain ; exhaling perfume, 
and powdered with silver. A very distinguished pro- 
cession this ! the favorite care of the fiorist ! Scarce 
one among them but is dignified with a character of 
renown, or has the honour to represent some cele- 
brated toast. But these also, notwithstanding their 
illustrious titles, have exhausted their whole stock of 
fragrance, and are mingled with the meanest dust. — 
Who could forbear grieving at their departure, did 
not the tulips begin to raise themselves on their fine 
wands or stately stalks ? They flush the parterre with 
one of the gayest dresses that blooming nature wears. 
Did ever beau or belle make so gaudy an appearance 
in a birth-night suit ? Here one may behold the in- 
nocent wantonness of beauty. Here she indulges a 
thousand freaks, and sports herself in the most charm- 
ing diversity of colours. Yet I should wrong her, 
were I to call her a coquette, because she plays her 
lovely changes, not to enkindle dissolute affections, 
but to display her Creator's glory.— Soon arises the 
anemone, encircled at the bottom with a spreading 
robe, and rounded at the top into a beautiful dome. 
In its loosely-flowing mantle, you may observe a noble 
negligence; in its gently-bending tufts, the nicest 
symmetry. I would term it the fine gentleman of the 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 115 

garden, because it seems to have learnt the singular 
address of uniting simplicity with refinement, of re- 
conciling art and ease. — The same month has the 
merit of producing the ranunculus. All bold and 
graceful, it expands the riches of its foliage, and ac- 
quires by degrees the loveliest enamel in the world. 
As persons of intrinsic worth disdain the superficial 
arts of recommendation practised by fops, so this 
lordly flower scorns to borrow any of its excellence 
from powders and essences. It needs no such attrac- 
tives to render it the darling of the curious, being 
sufficiently engaging from the elegance of its figure, 
the radiant variety of its tinges, and a certain supe- 
rior dignity of aspect. — Methinks nature improves 
her operations. Her latest strokes are most masterly. 
To crown the collection, she introduces the carna- 
tion, which captivates every eye with a noble spread 
of graces, and charms another sense with a profusion 
of exquisite odours. This single flower has centered 
in itself the perfection of all the preceding. The mo- 
ment it appears, it so commands our attention, that 
we scarce regret the absence of the rest. — The gilly- 
flower, like a real friend, attends you through all the 
vicissitudes and alterations of the season ; while others 
make a transient visit only, this is rather an inhabi- 
tant than a guest in your gardens ; adds fidelity to 
complaisance. 

It is in vain to attempt a catalogue of these ami- 
able gifts. There is an endless multiplicity iu their 
characters, yet an invariable order in their approaches. 
Every month, almost every week, has its peculiar 
ornaments ; not servilely copying the works of its 
predecessor, but forming, still forming, and still ex- 



116 REFLECTIONS ON 

ecuting some new design. So lavish is the fancy, yet 

so exact is the process, of nature. 

Here let me stand awhile to contemplate the dis- 
tribution of flowers through the several periods of the 
year. Were they all to blossom together, there would 
be at once a promiscuous throng, and at once a total 
privation. We should scarce have an opportunity of 
adverting to the dainty qualities of half, and must 
soon lose the agreeable company of them all. But 
now, since every species has a separate post to occupy, 
and a distinct interval for appearing, we can take a 
leisurely and minute survey of each succeeding set. 
We can view and review their forms, enter into a 
more intimate acquaintance with their charming ac- 
complishments, and receive all those pleasing services 
which they are commissioned to yield. This remark- 
able piece of economy is productive of another very 
valuable effect : it not only places in the most advan- 
tageous light, every particular community, but it is 
also a sure provisionary resource against the frailty of 
the whole nation ; or, to speak more truly, it renders 
the flowery tribes a sort of immortal corps.* For 
though some are continually dropping, yet by this 
expedient others are as continually rising, to beautify 
our borders, and prolong the entertainment. 

What goodness is this, to provide such a series of 
gratifications for mankind ! both to diversify, and 
perpetuate, the fine collation ! to take care that our 
paths should be in a manner incessantly strewed with 

* In allusion to the celebrated practice of the Persian 
kinsrs, who maintained for their life-g:uard, a body of troops, 
called immortal, because it perpetually subsisted : for as soon 
as any of the men died, another was immediately put intohU 
place.— Rollin's Ancient history, vol. ii. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 117 

flowers ! And what wisdom, to bid every one of these 
insensible beings know the precise juncture for their 
coming forth ! Insomuch that no actor on a stage can 
be more exact in performing his part, can make a 
more regular entry, or a more punctual exit. 

Who emboldens the daffodil to venture abroad in 
February, and to trust her flowering gold with incle- 
ment and treacherous skies ? Who informs the various 
tribes of fruit-bearing blossoms, that vernal suns and 
a more genial warmth are fittest for their delicate 
texture ? Who teaches the clove to stay till hotter 
beams are prepared, to infuse a spicy richness into 
her odours, and tincture her complexion with the 
deepest crimson ? Who disposes these beautiful 
troops into such orderly bodies ; retarding some, and 
accelerating others ? Who has instructed them to 
file off with such perfect regularity, as soon as the 
duty of their respective station is over ? And, when 
one detachment retires, who gives the signal for an- 
other immediately to advance ? Who, but that un- 
erring Providence, which, from the highest thrones 
of angels, to the very lowest degrees of existence, 
orders all things in 'number, weight, and measures ?' 

These, O my soul, are the regulations of that most 
adorable, that most beneficent Being, who bowed 
the heavens, came down to dwell on earth, and united 
the frailty of thy mortal nature to all the glories 
of his Godhead. All the honour of this admirable 
establishment belongs to thy Ransom, thy Surety, 
thy Saviour. To Him it belongs, who sustained the 
vengeance which thou hadst deserved and wast 
doomed to suffer ; who fulfilled the obedience which 
thou wast obliged, but unable, to perform ; and who 
humbled himself (stupendous, ineffable loving-kind- 



il8 REFLECTIONS ON 

ness !) humbled himself to death, even the death of 
the cross. He formed this vast machine, and adjusted 
its nice dependencies. The pillars that support it, 
the embellishments that adorn it, and the laws that 
govern it, are the result of his unsearchable counsels. 
O ! the heights of his majesty, and the depths of his 
abasement ! 

Which shall we admire most, his essential greatness, 
or his free grace ? He created the exalted seraph 
that sings in glory ; and every the minutest insect 
that flutters in air or crawls in dust. He marks out 
a path for all those globes of light which travel the 
circuit of the skies, and disdains not to rear the violet 
from its lowly bed, or to plait the daisy which dresses 
our plains. So grand are his operations, yet so con- 
descending his regards ! If summer, like a sparkling 
bride, is brilliant and glorious in her apparel, what is 
this but a feeble reflection of his uncreated efful- 
gence ? If autumn, like a munificent host, opens 
her stores, and gives us all things richly to enjoy, 
what is this but a little taste of his inexhaustible li- 
berality ? If thunders roar, you hear the sound of his 
trumpet : if lightnings glare, you see the launching 
of his glittering spear : « if the perpetual hills be 
scattered, and the everlasting mountains bowed,' 
you behold a display — no, says the prophet, you have 
rather the hiding of his power.* So immense is his 

* Hab.iii.4. Nothing c»n he more magnificently conceived 
than the imagerv <>( this whole chapter"; ami upon the foot 
of our interpretation, nothing was ever more delicately and 
nobly turned than the sentiment of this clause. Other senses 
of the passage, I acknowledge, may he assigned with equal 
propriety : hut none, 1 think, can be imagined an maj. -tie 
and sublime. As the original will fairly Admit of it, as it 
carries no disagreement with the context, and eat 
most important, as well as undoubted truth, 1 hope, I may 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 119 

power, so uncontrollable and inconceivable, that all 
these mighty works are but a sketch in which more 
is concealed than discovered. 

Thus, 1 think, we should always view the visible 
system, with an evangelical telescope (if I may be 
allowed the expression), and with an evangelical mi- 
croscope, regarding Christ Jesus as the great projector 
and architect who planned and executed the amazing 
scheme. Whatever is magnificent or valuable, tre- 
mendous or amiable, should ever be ascribed to the 
Redeemer. This is the Christian's natural philosophy. 
With regard to this method of considering the things 
that are seen, we have an inspired apostle for our 
preceptor and precedent. Speaking of Christ, he says, 
' Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the founda- 
tion of the earth ; and the heavens are the work of 
thy hands.' Did w T e carefully attend to this leading 

be permitted to use it, at least by way of accommodation ; 
esp* ciallv a* it 5 ngjests one of the finest mottos imaginable, 
wherewith to inscribe all the visible productions of the Crea- 
tor's hand. When, struck with astonishment, we consider 
their grandeur, beauty, and consummate perfections, let us, 
in justice to their Author, apply the exalted reflection of this 
sacred ode: ' In all these is the hidinsr rather than an ade- 
quate display of hi* matchless power. Ti.' '.^h they challenge 
our praise, and surpass our comprehension^ yet they are by 
no means the utmost exertions, but rather' some slighter 
essays, of omnipotent skill.' Milton, relating' the overthrow 
of the fallen angels, introduces a grand circumstance, not 
much unlike the preceding. Messiah, unaided, and alone, 
had routed an innumerable host of apostate spirits. This 
was great and marvellous. But to create a juster idea of the 
illustrious conqueror, our poet beautifully adds — 

' Yet half his strength lie put not forth.' 
If we foreet to make the same remark, when we contemplate 
God in his works we must necessarily form very scanty con- 
ceptions of that Supreme Being, befo're whom ail nations are 
as a * drop of a bucket, and are counted as the small dust ot 
the balance.' 



120 REFLECTIONS ON 

principle in all our examinations of nature, it would 
doubtless be a most powerful means of enkindling 
our love, and strengthening our faith.* When I look 
round upon millions of noble substances, and carry 
with me this transporting reflection, « The Maker of 
them all expired on a cross for me; how can I remain 
any longer indifferent ? Must not the coldest heart 
begin to glow with gratitude' When I survey an 
immensity of the finest productions imaginable, and 
remember that the Author of them all is my right- 

* The apostles, I observe, delight to use this method of dis- 
plavin.r the honours of ihe Retdeemer, ami establishing- tlie 
faith of his people. The beloved disciple, beaching that most 
precious doctrine, 'of a Lamb slain to lake away the sins of 
the world,' in order to evince the sufficiency of Christ's sa 
critice for this blessed purpose, affirms, that all things were 
made by him: and without him wis not any thin?, no, not so 
much as one single being, made, John i. 3.— St. Paul, preach- 
ing the same glad tidings to the Colossians, and expressly 
maintaining, that we have redemption through his blood", 
seems to foresee an objection of this kind: 'To expiate trans- 
gressions against an infinite in ijesty is a most prodigious act. 
It must cost vastly more than any common surety can pay, 
Jo redeem a sinful world. What reason have we "to believe, 
that Jesus is equal to this mighty undertaking!' All possible 



of his works, for by him all tilings were made. Consider the 
operations of his hands, and vou cannot doubt the atoning 
efficacy of his death. Col. i. 15, 16.— The author of the Epis- 
tle to the Hebrews falls exactly into the same train of arguing. 
Declaring that Christ Jesus has purged our sins by the" sacri- 
fice of himself, he proves his ample ability for this tremendous 
office from his essential excellence, because he is the bright- 
ness of his Father's glorv ; and from his amiable works, be- 
cause he made the worlds, and upholdeth all tilings by the 
word of his power, Heb. i. 2, 3, which truth, as it is so im- 
portant in itself, of such signal comfort to Christians, and so 
particularly insisted on by the in-pired writers, I hope I shall 
need no apology for an attempt to illustrate and enforce it in 
a kind of evangelical descant upon Creation annexed to these 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 121 

teousness and my redemption;' how can I choose but 
repose the most cheerful confidence in such a Me- 
diator ? 

Let me add one more remark upon the admirable 
adjustment of every particular relating to these fine 
colonies planted in the parterre. With such accuracy 
and correctness is their structure finished, that any 
the least conceivable alteration would very much im- 
pair their perfection. Should you see, for instance, 
the nice disposition of the tulip's attire fly abroad, 
disorderly and irregular, like the flaunting woodbine; 
should the jessamine rear her diminutive head on 
those grand columns which support the hollyhock; 
should the erect and manly aspect of the piony hang 
down with a pensive air, like the flexile bells of the 
hyacinth; should that noble plainness which distin- 
guishes the lily be exchanged for the glittering fringes 
which edge the pink, or the gaudy stains which be- 
drop the iris; should those tapering pillars which 
arise in the middle of its vase, and, tipt with golden 
pendants, give such a lustre to the surrounding pan- 
nels of alabaster— should those sink and disappear, 
like the chives which cover the heart of the anemone ; 
in many of these cases, would not the transposition 
be fantastical and awkward ? in all, to the apparent 
prejudice of every individual ? 

Again, with regard to the time of their appearing, 
this circumstance is settled by a remarkable foresight 
and precaution. What would become of the sailor, 
if in very stormy weather he should raise a lofty 
mast, and crowd it with all his canvas ! Such would 
be the ill effect, if the most stately species of flowers 
should presume to come abroad in the blustering 
months. Ah! how would they rue the imprudent 
12 



122 REFLECTIONS ON 

boldness ! Therefore those only that shoot the shortest 
stems, and display the smallest spread of leaves, or 
(if you please) carry the least sail, are launched 
amidst the blowing seasons. How injudiciously would 
the perfumer act, if he should unseal his finest 
essences, and expose them to the northern winds or 
wintry rains ! Our blooming artists of the aromatic 
profession, at least the most delicate among them, 
seem perfectly aware of the consequences of such a 
procedure. Accordingly they postpone the opening 
of their odoriferous treasures till a serener air, and 
more unclouded skies, grant a protection to their 
amiable traffic ; till they are under no more appre- 
hensions of having their spicy cells rifled by rude 
blasts, or drowned in incessant showers. 

What a striking argument is here for resignation, 
unfeigned resignation, to all the disposals of Provi- 
dence ! Too often are our dissatisfied thoughts apt 
to find fault with divine dispensations. We tacitly 
arraign our Maker's conduct, or question his kindness 
with regard to ourselves. We fancy our lot not so 
commodiously situated, or our condition not so hap- 
pily circumstanced, as if we had been placed in some 
other station of life. But let us behold this exqui. 
sitely nice regulation of the minutest plants, and ct 
ashamed of our repining folly. Could any fibre in 
their composition be altered, or one une in their fea- 
tures be transposed, without clouding some of their 
beauties ? Could any fold in their vestments be 
varied, or any link in their orderly succession be 
broken, without injuring some delicate property ? 
And does not that All-seeing Eye, which preserves so 
exact a harmony among these pretty toys, maintain 
as watchful a care over his rational creatures ? Does 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 123 

he choose the properest season for the cowslip to 
arise, and drink the dews, and can he neglect the 
concerns, or misjudge the conveniences, of his sone 
and daughters ? He, who has so completely disposed 
whatever pertains to the vegetable economy, that the 
least diminution or addition would certainly hurt 
the finished scheme, does, without all peradventure, 
preside with equal attention over the interests of his 
own people. 

Be still, then, thou uneasy mortal ; know that God 
is unerringly wise ; and he assured that, amidst the 
greatest multiplicity of beings, he does not overlook 
thee. Thy Saviour has given me authority to assert, 
that thou art of far superior value, in the estimate of 
Omnipotence, than all the herbage of the field. If 
his sacred will ordains sickness for thy portion, never 
dare to imagine that uninterrupted health would be 
more advantageous. If he pleases to withhold or 
take away children, never presume to conclude, that 
thy happiness is blasted, because thy hopes of an 
increasing family are disappointed. He that marshals 
all the starry host, and so accurately arranges every 
the meanest species of herbs, he orders all the pecu- 
liarities, all the changes of thy state, with a vigilance 
that nothing can elude, with a goodness that endureth 
for ever. Bow thy head, therefore, in humble ac- 
quiescence. Rest satisfied, that whatever is by the 
appointment of Heaven,* is right, is best. 

* ' Whatever is, is right.' — If Mr. Pope understands the 
maxim according- to the limitation suggested above, he speaks 
a most undeniable and glorious truth. But if that great poet 
includes whatever comes to pass, through the wild and extra- 
vagant passions of men, surely no thinking person, at least, 
no Christian, can accede to his opinion.— What Cod orders U 
wise beyond all possibility of correction ; and good above all 
that we can ask or think. His decrees are the result of inft- 



124 REFLECTIONS ON 

Among all the productions of the third creating- 
day, this of flowers seems to be peculiarly designed 
for man. Man has the monopoly of this favour ; it 
is conferred on him by a sort of exclusive charter. 
See the imperial crown, splendid and beautifully 
grand ! See the tuberose, delicate and languishingly 
fair ! See all the pomp and glory of the parterre, 
where paint and perfume do wonders. Yet the in- 
ferior animals are neither smit with their beauties, 
nor regaled with their odours. The horse never 
stands still to gaze upon their charms, nor does the 
ox turn aside to browse upon their sweets. Senses 
they have to discern these curious objects in the 
gross, but no taste to distinguish or relish their fine 
accomplishments. Just so, carnal and unenlightened 
men may understand the literal meaning of Scripture, 
may comprehend the evidences of its divine inspira- 
tion ; yet have no ardent longing for the spiritual 
blessings it offers, see ' no form or comeliness' in the 
Saviour it describes, so as to render him the supreme 
desire of their souls. 

The chief end of these beautiful appearances, phi- 

nite discernment, and his dispensations the issues of un- 
bounded benevolence. But man, fallen man, is hurried away 
by his lusts into a thousand irregularities, which are deplo- 
rably evil in themselves, and attended with consequences 
manifestly pernicious to society. Let the sentiment, there- 
fore, be restrained to the disposals of Heaven, and 1 most 
readily subscribe it. But if it be extended to the conduct of 
men, and the effects of their folly, I think myself obliged to 
enter my protest atrainst it. For whatever kindles the divine 
indignation— is cau-c of final ruin to the author, is strictly 
forbidden by God's holy word, is contrary to the whole design 
of his revealed will, and the very reverse of his essential at- 
tributes,— this cannot possibly be risrht, this is most undoubt- 
edly wrong. Omnipotence," indeed, can over-rule it, and 
educe good from it. But the very notion of over-ruling sup- 
poses it to be absolutely wrong in itself. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 125 

losophers say, is to unfold and cherish the embryo 
seed, or to swathe the tender body during its infant 
state. But whatever is the chief end of nature, 'tis 
certain she never departs from the design of admi- 
nistering delight to mankind.* This is inseparably 
connected with other views. Were it only to secure 
a reproductive principle, what need of such elegant 
complications? Why so much art employed, and 
so many decorations added ? Why should vestments 
be prepared richer than brocades, more delicate than 
lawns, and of a finer glow than the most admired 
velvets ? If the great mother had no other aim than 
barely to accommodate her little offspring, warm 
flannel or homely fustian would have served her 
turn ; served it full as well as the most sumptuous 
tissues, or all the furniture of the mercer's shop. 

Evident then it is that flowers are endued with 
such enchanting graces for the pleasure of man. In 
pursuance of this original intention, they have always 
paid their court to the human race ; they still seem 
particularly solicitous of recommending themselves 
to our regard. The finest of each species crowd 
about our habitations ; and are rarely to be seen at a 
distance from our abodes. They thrive under our 
cultivating hand and observing eye, but degenerate 
and pine away if unregarded by their lord. To win 
his attention, and deck his retreats, they hide their 
deformities under ground, and display nothing but 

* ' We find that the most important parts in the vegetable 
workl are those which are the most beautiful. These are the 
seeds by which the several races of plants are propagated and 
continued, and which are always lodged in flowers or blossoms. 
Nature seems to hide her principal design, and to be indus- 
trious in making the earth gay and delightful, while she is 
carrying on her great work, and intent upon her own preser- 
vation.' Sped. vol. v. No. 387. 

12* 



126 REFLECTIONS ON 

the most graceful forms and engaging colours to hit 
sight. To merit a farther degree of his esteem, the 
generality of them dispense a delightful perfume. 
What is still more obliging, they reserve their richest 
exhalations to embalm his morning and evening 
walks.* Because he usually chooses those cool hours 
to recreate himself among their blooming ranks, 
therefore at those hours they aie most lavish of their 
fragrance, and breathe out their choicest spirits. 

O man, greatly beloved by thy Creator ! the darling 
of Providence ! thou art distinguished by his good- 
ness ; distinguish thyself also by thy gratitude. Be 
it thy one undivided aim to glorify Him who has been 
at so much expense to gratify thee ! — While all these 
inferior creatures, in silent eloquence, declare the 
glory of God, do thou lend them thy tongue. Be 
thou the high-priest of the mute creation. Let their 
praises become vocal in thy songs. Adore the Su- 
preme Benefactor for the blessings He showers down 
upon every order of beings. Adore him for number- 
less mercies which are appropriated to thyself. But. 
above all, adore Him for that noble gift of a rational 
and immortal soul: this constitutes us masters of 
the globe, and gives us the real enjoyment of its 
riches: this discovers ten thousand beauties, which 
otherwise had been lost, and renders them both a 
source of delight and a nursery of devotion. By vir- 
tue of this exalted principle, we are qualified to ad- 
mire our Maker's works, and capable of bearing his 
illustrious image; bearing his illustrious image, not 
only when these ornaments of the ground have re- 



Reserv'd from night, and kept for thee in store.— Milt. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 127 

signed their honours, but when the great origin of 
day is extinguished in the skies, and all the flaming 
orbs on high are put out in obscure darkness. Then 
to survive, to survive the ruins of one world, and to 
enjoy God— to resemble God— to be « filled with all 
the fulness of God,' in another — what a. happiness, 
what an inestimable happiness, is this ! Vet this is 
thy privilege (barter it not, for trifles of an hour !) 
this thy glorious prerogative, O man ! 

O ! the goodness, the exuberant goodness, of our 
God ! I cannot forbear celebrating it once more, 
before I pass to another consideration. — How much 
should we think ourselves obliged to a generous 
friend, who should build a stately edifice* purely for 

* I cannot persuade myself, that the comparison is stretched 
bevond proper bounds when carried (o this pitch. It is my 
ste'tiia-t opinion, that the world, at least this lower world, 
with its \arious appurtenances, was intended purely for man ; 
that it is appropriated to him ; and that he (in subordination 
to God's glory) is the end of its creation. Other animals, 'tis 
true, partake of the Creator's benefits : but then thev par- 
take under the notion of man's domestics, or on the foot of 
retainers to him; as creatures, which bear some relation to 
his service, and some way or other contribute to his good. 
S > that still he is the centre of the whole ; or, as our incom- 
parable Milton, equally master of poetry and divinity, ex- 
presses himself, 

' All things live for man.'— Par. Lost. b. xi. 161. 

Mr. Pope, in his Ethic Epistles, is pleased to explode this 
tenet as the height of pride and a gross ahsurdity. For my 
part I :-ee no reason for such a charge. With all submission 
to so superior a genius, it seems very remote from pride to 
be duly sensible of favours vouchsafed ; to contemplate them 
in ail the extent of their munificence, and acknowledge them 
accordingly. 1 should rather imagine, that to contract their 
size, when they are immensely large ; to stint their number, 
when they are altogether innumerable; that such a proce- 
dure savours more of insensibility than our hypothesis of 
presumption, and has more in it of ingratitude than that ot 
arrogance. 

And how can it be deemed an absurdity, to maintain that 



128 REFLECTIONS ON 

our abode ! But how greatly would the obligation be 
increased, if the hand that built should also furnish 
it ! and not only furnish it with all that is commo- 
dious and comfortable, but ornament it also with 
whatever is splendid and delightful ! — this has our 

God gave us a world for our possession, when it is our duty 
to believe that lie gave us his only Sou for our propitiation ! 
Sure, it can be neither difficult nor extravagant to suppose, 
that he designed the habitable globle, with its whole furni- 
ture, lor our present use; since he withheld not his holy 
child Jesus, but freely delivered him up lor our final salva- 

Cpon the whole, I cannot but conclude, that the attempt 
of our famous poet is neither kind with regard to his fellow- 
creatures, nor grrafeful with regard to his Creator; neither 
is his scheme in" fact true.— The attempt not kind with regard 
to man, because it robs him of one of the most delightful and 
ravishing contemplations imaginable. To consider the great 
Author of existence as having me in his eye, when he formed 
universal nature ; as contriving all things with an imme- 
diate view to the exigencies ot my particular state ; and 
making them all in such a manner, as might be most con- 
ducive to my particular advantage ; this must occasion the 
strongest satisfactions, whenever 1 casta glance on the ob- 
jects that surround me.— Not grateful with regard to God, 
because it has the most direct tendency to diminish our sense 
of his kindness, and by that means to throw a damp upon 
our gratitude. It teaches us to look upon ourselves, as almost 
lost among a crowd of other beings, or regarded only with 
an occasional and incidental beiietireuci, which must cer- 
tainly weaken the disposition and indeed slacken the ties to 
the most adoring thankfulness.— To which, I apprehend, we 
may justly add, neither is the scheme in fact true. For, not 
to mention what mignt be urged from the sure word of re- 
velation, this one argument appears sufficiently conclusive. 
The world began with man ; the world must cease with him ; 
consequently, the grand use, the principal end of the world, 
is to subserve the interest of man. It is on all sides agreed, 
that the edilice was erected when man was to be furnished 
with an habitation : and that it will be demolished, when man 
has no farther need of its accommodations. When he enters 
into the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, 
' the earth, and all the works that are therein, shall be burnt 
up.' From which it seems a very obvious and fair deduction, 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 129 

most indulgent Creator done, in a manner infinitely 
surpassing all we could wish or imagine. 

The earth is assigned us for a dwelling. The 
skies are stretched over us like a magnificent canopy 
dyed in the purest azure ; and beautified, now with 
pictures of floating silver, now with colourings of re- 
flected crimson. The grass is spread under us as a 
spacious carpet, wove with silken threads of green, 
and damasked with flowers of every hue. The sun, 
like a golden lamp, is hung out in the ethereal vault; 
and pours his effulgence all the day to lighten our 
paths. When night approaches, the moon takes up 
the friendly office; and the stars are kindled in 
twinkling myriads to cheer the darkness with their 
milder lustre, not disturb our repose by too intense a 
glare. The clouds, besides the rich paintings they 
hang around the heavens, act the part of a shifting 
screen ; and defend us, by their seasonable interpo- 
sition, from the scorching beams of summer. May 
we not also regard them as the great watering-pots 
of the globe ? which, wafted on the wings of the wind, 
dispense their moisture* evenly through the univer- 

say, on the principles of gratitude, obliged) to use those 
lovely lines ot our author, with a propriety and truth, equal 
to their elegance and beauty :— 

For me kind Nature wakes her genial pow'r, „ 

Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry flow'r ! 
Annual, for me, the grape, the rose renew 
The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew; 
For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings; 
For me, health gushes from a thousand springs. 

Eth. Ep. i. ver. 129. 
* This circumstance, amidst abundance of other delicate 
and edifying remarks upon the wonders of nature, is finely 
touched in the Philosophical Transactions recorded in the 
book of Job, chap, xxxviii. ver. 15. — who hath divided a 
water-course for the overflowing of waters !— The Hebrew ig 
co pregnant and rich with sense, that no translation can do 



130 REFLECTIONS ON 

sal garden; and fructify, with their showers, what- 
ever our hand plants. The fields are our exhaustless 
granary. The ocean is our vast reservoir. The ani- 
mals spend their strength to dispatch our business, 
resign their clothing to replenish our wardrobe, and 
surrender their very lives to provide for our tables. In 
short, every element is a storehouse of conveniences, 
every season brings us the choicest productions, all 
nature is our caterer : and, which is a most endearing 
recommendation of these favwars, they are all as 
lovely as they are useful. You unserve nothing mean 
or inelegant. All is clad in beauty's fairest robe, 
and regulated by proportion's nicest rule. The whole 
scene exhibits a fund of pleasures to the imagination, 
at the same time that it more than supplies all our 
wants.* 

Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever 
thou art, that rebellest against thy Maker. He sur- 



— Who has branched out, ami with adiiiii'.iliie judgment dis- 
posed a variety of aqueduct, for that immense collection of 
waters which float in the- sky >— Wh.. distributes these pendu- 
lous floods through all the borders of the earth ! Distribute! 
them, not in dreadful cataracts, or promiscuous gluts of rain, 
but in kindly drops and n-fn -hmir shower.-. with as much re- 
gularity and economy as if they w : ere coimycd by pipes from 
a conduit! To whom shall we ascribe that nicemss of con- 
trivance, which now emit-, now restrains them ; sometimes 
drives their humid train to one place, sometimes to another : 
dispenses them to this soil in larger, to that in smaller com- 
munications; and, in a word, so manages the mighty fluid, 
that every spot is supplied in exact proportion to its wants, 
none destroyed by an undistiuiruishiug deluge ! 

* ' These" several living creatures, which are made for our 
service or sustenance, at the same time either (ill the woods 
with their music, furnish lis with game, or raise pleasing 
ideas in us by the delightfulnes- of their appearance. Foun- 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 131 

rounds thee with unnumbered benefits, and follows 
thee with an effusion of the richest, noblest gifts. 
He courts thy affeetions, he solicits thy gratitude, by 
liberalities which are never intermitted, by a bounty 
which knows no limits.— Most blessed Lord, let this 
thy goodness, thy unwearied goodness, lead us to 
repentance. Win us to thyself, thou Fountain of 
Felicity, by these sweet inducements. Draw us to 
our duty, thou God of cur Salvation, by these * cords 
of love.' 

What a living picture is here of the beneficial effects 
of industry! By industry and cultivation, this neat 
spot is an image of Eden. Here is all that can enter- 
tain the eye, or regale the smell. Whereas, without 
cultivation, this sweet garden had been a desolate 
wilderness. Vile thistles had made it loathsome, and 
tangling briars inaccessible. Without cultivation it 
might have been a nest of serpents, and the horrid 
haunt of venomous creatures. But the spade and 
pruning- knife in the hands of industry have improved 
it into a sort of terrestrial paradise. 

How naturally does this lead our contemplation to 
the advantages which flow from a virtuous education, 
and the miseries which ensue from the neglect of it ! 
The mind, without early instruction, will, in all pro- 
bability, become like the « vineyard of the sluggard ;' 
if left to the propensities of its own depraved will, 
what can we expect but the most luxuriant growth 
of unruly appetites, which in time will break forth 
into all manner of scandalous irregularities ? What '. 
— but that anger, like a prickly thorn, arm the tem- 
per with an untractable moroseness; peevishness, 
like a stinging nettle, render the conversation irk- 
Eome and forbidding: avarice, like some choaking 



132 REFLECTIONS ON 

weed, teach the fingers to gripe, and the hands to op- 
press : revenge, like some poisonous plant, replete 
with baneful juices, rankle in the breast, and medi- 
tate mischief to its neighbour : while unbridled lusts, 
like swarms of noisome insects, taint each rising 
thought ; and render « every imagination of the heart 
only evil continually ?' Such are the usual products 
of savage nature ; such the furniture of the unculti- 
vated soul ! 

Whereas let the mind be put under the ' nurture 
and admonition of the Lord :' let holy discipline clear 
the soil : let sacred instructions sow it with the best 
seed: let skill and vigilance dress the rising shoots; 
direct the young ideas how to spread ; the wayward 
passions how to move : then what a different state of 
the inner man will quickly take place. Charity will 
breathe her sweets, and hope expand her blossoms ; 
the personal virtues display their graces, and the 
social ones their fruits;* the sentiments become gene- 
rous, the carriage endearing, the life honourable and 
useful. 

O ! that governors of families and masters of school* 
would watch with a conscientious solicitude over the 
morals of their tender charge ! What pity it is, that 
the advancing generation should lose these invaluable 
endowments through any supineness in their in- 
structors ! See ! with what assiduity the curious 



make the soul as a watered garden. Under the operation of 
this divine rinciple, the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as 
the rose. Wherever it exerts the refining: and enobling- energy, 
instead of the thorn shall come up the fig-tree, and instead of" 
the brier, the myrtle tree. Jereru. xxxi. 12. Isai. xxxv. i. 
lv. 13. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 133 

florist attends his little nursery ? He visits them early 
and late ; furnishes them with the properest mould , 
supplies them with seasonable moisture ; guards them 
from the ravages of insects ; screens them from the 
injuries of the weather; marks their springing buds ; 
observes them attentively through their whole pro- 
gress; and never intermits his anxiety till he beholds 
them blown into full perfection. And shall a range 
of painted leaves, which flourish to-day, and to-mor- 
row fall to the ground— shall these be tended with 
more zealous application, than the exalted faculties 
of an immortal soul ? 

Yet trust not in cultivation alone. It is the bless- 
sing of the Almighty Husbandman, which imparts 
success to such labours of love. If God ' seal up the 
bottles of heaven,' and command the clouds to with- 
hold their fatness, the best-manured spot becomes a 
barren desert. And if he restrain the dew of his 
heavenly benediction, all human endeavours mis- 
carry ; the rational plantation languishes ; our most 
pregnant hopes, from youths of the most promising 
genius, prove abortive. Their root will be as rotten- 
ness, and their blossom will go up as dust.* There- 
fore, let parents plant; let tutors water; but let 
both look up to the Father of spirits for the desired 
increase. 

On every side, I espy several budding flowers. As 
yet, they are like bales of cloth from the packer's 
warehouse : each is wrapt within a strong enclosure, 
and its contents are tied together by the firmest band- 
ages ; so that all their beauties lie concealed, and all 
their sweets are locked up. Just such is the nig- 
gardly wretch, whose aims are all turned inward, and 
* Isai. v. 24. 
13 



134 REFLECTIONS ON 

meanly terminated upon himself; who makes his 
own private interests or personal pleasures the sole 
centre of his designs, and the scanty circumference of 
his actions. 

Ere long the searching beams will open these silken 
folds, and draw them into a graceful expansion. 
Then, what a lovely blush will glow in their cheeks, 
and what a balmy odour exhale from their bosoms ! 
So, when divine grace shines upon the mind, even 
the churl becomes bountiful ; the heart of stone is 
taken away, and a heart of flesh, a heart susceptible 
of the softest, most compassionate emotions, is intro- 
duced in its stead. O ! how sweetly do the social 
affections dilate themselves under so benign an in- 
fluence! just like these disclosing gems, under the 
powerful eye of day. The tender regards are no 
longer confined to a single object ; but extend them- 
selves into a generous concern for mankind, and shed 
liberal refreshments on all within their reach.* 

Arise then, thou Sun of righteousness; arise with 
healing under thy wings; and transfuse thy gentle 
but penetrating ray through all our intellectual 
powers. Enlarge every narrow disposition, and fill 
us with a diffusive benevolence. Make room in our 

* The prophet describing the charitiMe temper, verv beauti- 
fully >avs ' If thou draw out thj soul to the hungry.' - This, 
1 tliink, may not improperly be illustrated hy the circum- 
stances observed above. The opening of those bud* into a 
large anil exten-ive spread, is a pretty portrait of the ainpli- 
til ieof asrenerons he irt, which c in not shut up its compassion, 
or remain unconcerned at any human calamity. The free- 
ness and copiousness with which the expanded flowers are 
continually pouring out their choicest essences, may represent 
the various acts of an unwearied liberality; together with 
those endearing words and that cordial affection which era-- 
balm, as it were, a gift, double its value, and constitute «liat 
the sacred penman styles, ' drawing out the soul,' Isai. lviii. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 135 

breasts for the whole human race ; and teach us to 
love all our fellow-creatures for their amiable Crea- 
tor's sake. May we be pleased with their excellencies, 
and rejoice in their happiness ; but feel their miseries 
as our own, and with a brother's sympathy hasten to 
relieve them ! 

Disposed at proper distances, I observe a range of 
strong and stately stalks. They stand like towers 
along the walls of a fortified city, or rise like lofty 
spires amidst the group of houses. They part, at the 
top, into several pensile spiky pods, from each of 
which we shall soon see a fine figure displaying itself 
rounded into a form, which constitutes a perfect cir- 
cle, spread wide open into the most frank and com- 
municative air ; and tinged with the colour which is 
so peculiarly captivating to the miser's eye. 

But the property I chiefly admire, is its passionate 
fondness for the sun. When the evening shades take 
place, the poor flower droops, and folds up its leaves. 
It mourns all the long night, and pines amidst the 
gloom, like some forlorn lover banished from the ob- 
ject of his affections. No sooner does Providence 
open ' the eyelids of the morning,' but it meets and 
welcomes the returning light, courts and caresses it 
all the day, nor ever loses sight of the refulgent 
charmer so long as he continues above the horizon ! 
In the morning, you may perceive it presenting a 
golden bosom to the east ; at noon, it points upward 
to the middle sky ; in the evening follows the same 
attractive influence to the west. 

Surely Nature is a book, and every page rich with 
sacred hints. To an attentive mind the garden turns 
preacher, and its blooming tenants are so many lively 
sermons. What an engaging pattern, and what an ex- 



136 REFLECTIONS ON 

cellent lesson have we here ! — So let the redeemed of 
.he Lord look unto Jesus,* and be conformed to 
their Beloved. Let us all be heliotropes (if I may 
use the expression) to the Sun of righteousness; 
let our passions rise and fall, take this course or 
that, as his word determines, as his holy example 
guides; let us be so accommodated both to his com- 
manding and providential will, as the wax is turned 
to the imprinted seal ; or, as the aspect of this en- 
amoured flower, to the splendid star which creates 
our day. 

In every enjoyment, O thou watchful Christian, 
look unto Jesus; receive it as proceeding from his 
love, and purchased by his agonies.f In every tri- 
bulation look unto Jesus ; mark his gracious hand, 
managing the scourge, or mingling the bitter cup ; 
attempering it to a proper degree of severity ; adjust- 
ing the time of its continuance ; and ready to make 
these seeming disasters productive of real good. In 
every infirmity and failing, look unto Jesus, thy mer- 
ciful high-priest; pleading his atoning blood, and 
making intercession for transgressors. In every prayer 
look unto Jesus, thy prevailing advocate; recom- 
mending thy devotions, and ' bearing the iniquity of 
thy holy things. *+ In every temptation look unto 
Jesus, the author of thy strength, and captain of thy 
salvation; who alone is able to lift up the hands 
which hang down, to invigorate the enfeebled knees, 
and make thee more than conqueror over all thy 



ohisthn 

There's not a prift his hand bestows, 
Hut cost his heart a groan.— Wattu 
t Exod. xxwii. 38 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 137 

enemies. But especially, when the hour of thy de- 
parture approaches ; when • thy flesh and thy heart 
fail;' when all the springs of life are irreparably 
breaking; then look unto Jesus with a believing eye.* 
Like expiring Stephen, behold him standing at the 
right hand of God, on purpose to succour his people 
in this their last extremity. Yes, my Christian 
friend ; when thy journey through life is finished, and 
thou art arrived on the very verge of mortality ; when 
thou art just launching out into the invisible world, 
and all before thee is vast eternity; then, O then, 
be sure to look stedfastly unto Jesus ! « See by faith 
the Lord's Christ.' View him as the only way to the 
everlasting mansions,f as the only door to the abodes 
of bliss.t 

Yonder tree which faces the south, has something 
too remarkable, to pass without observation. Like 
the fruitful though feeble vine, she brings forth a 
large family of branches : but, unable to support them 
herself, commits them to the tuition of a sunny wall. 
As yet the tender twigs have scarce gemmed their 
future blossoms. However, I may anticipate the well- 
known productions, and picture to myself the passion- 
flower: which will, in due time, with a long and 
copious succession, adorn the boughs. 

I have read, in a Latin author, of flowers inscribed 
with the name of kings ; but here is one emblazoned 
with the marks of the bleeding Prince of life. I read 
in the inspired writings of apostolic men, who bore 
about in their bodies the dying of the Lord Jesus ;§ 
but here is a blooming religioso, that carries apparent 

* Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the 
earth, Isai. xiv. 22. 

t John xiv. 6. t John x. 9. § 2 Cor. iv. 10. 



138 REFLECTIONS ON 

memorials of the same tremendous and fatal catas- 
trophe. Who would have expected to find such a 
tragedy of woe, exhibited in a collection of the most 
delicate delights ? Or to see Calvary's horrid scene 
pourtrayed on the softest ornaments of the garden ? 
Is nature then actuated by the noble ambition of pay- 
ing commemorative honours to her agonizing Sove- 
reign? Is she kindly officious to remind forgetful 
mortals of that miracle of mercy, which it is their 
duty to contemplate, and their happiness to believe ? 
Or is a sportive imagination my interpreter, and all 
the supposed resemblance no more than the preca- 
rious gloss of fancy ? Be it so ; yet even fancy has 
her merit, when she sets forth in such pleasing ima- 
gery the crucified Jesus. Nor shall I refuse a will- 
ing regard to imagination herself, when she employs 
her creative powers to revive the sense of such un- 
paralleled love, and prompt my gratitude to so divine 
a Friend. 

That spiral tendril, arising from the bottom of the 
stalk, is it a representation of the scourge which 
lashed the Redeemer's unspotted flesh, and inflicted 
those stripes by which our souls are healed ? Or is 
it twisted for the cord which bound his hands in 
painful and ignominious confinement — those benefi- 
cent hands, which were incessantly stretched out to 
unloose the heavy burdens, and to impart blessings 
of every choice kind ? Behold the nails which were 
drenched in his sacred veins, and rivetted his feet 
to the accursed tree— those beautiful feet,* which 
always went about doing good, and travelled far 

* How beautiful are the (eet of him that brin?eth g-ood 
tidings, that publisheth peace, that bringeth good tidiugs of 
good, that publisheth salvation! Isai. lii. 7. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 139 

and near to spread the glad tidings of everlasting 
salvation. See the hammer, ponderous and massy, 
which drove the rugged irons through the shivering 
nerves, and forced a passage for those dreadful 
wedges between the dislocated bones. View the 
thorns which encircled our royal Master's brow, and 
shot their keen afflicted points into his blessed head. 
O the smart ! the racking smart ! when, instead of 
the triumphal laurel, or the odoriferous garland, that 
pungent and ragged wreath was planted on the meek 
Messiah's forehead ! when violent and barbarous 
blows of the strong eastern cane* struck the prickly 
crown, and fixed every thorn deep in his throbbing 
temples If There stand the disciples ranged in the 
green impalement, and forming a circle round the 
instruments of their great Commander's death. They 
appear like so many faithful adherents, who breathe 
a gallant resolution, either of defending their Lord to 
the last extremity, or of dropping honourably by his 

* ' They took the reed,' says the sacred historian, • and 
smote him on the head ; and so, as it were, nailed down the 
thorns into his forehead and temples, anil occasioned thereby 
exquisite pain, as well as a great effusion of blood.' Family 
Exijo-it'ir, vol. ii. <ect. i&3. ' it is most probable,' adds the 
same judicious critic, ' this was a walking-start' which they 
put into his hand as a sceptre, for a blow with a slight reed 
would scarce have been felt, or have deserved a mention in a 
detail of such dreadful sufferings.' 

+ The smart attending this unparalleled piece of contempt 
and barbarity, must be inexpressibly severe ; not only on ac- 
count of the" many painful punctures made in the flesh, but 
principally because the periosteum, an exquisitely sensible 
tegumentof the bones, lying in those parts, very near the ex- 
ternal skin, must receive a multitude of terrible wounds, the 
anguish of which could not fail of being inflamed to an excess 
:, by the continuance of so many thorny lancets in that 
:Iy tender membrane ; which, in such a case, 

trembling alive all o'er, 

lust smart and agonize at ev'ry pore. 



140 REFLECTIONS ON 

side. But did they give such proofs of zeal and 
fidelity in their conduct, as their steady posture and 
determined aspect seemed to promise ? Alas ! what 
is all human firmness, when destitute of succours 
from above, but an expiring vapour ? What is every 
saint, if unsupported by powerful grace, but an aban- 
doned traitor? Observe the glory, delineated in 
double rays, grand with imperial purple, and rich 
with ethereal blue. But, ah ! how incapable are 
threads, though spun by summer's finest hand, though 
dyed in snows, or dipped in heaven, to display the 
immaculate excellency of his human, or the ineffable 
majesty of his divine nature ! Compared with these 
sublime perfections, the most vivid assemblage of 
colours fade into an unmeaning flatness; the most 
charming effects of light and shade are not only mere 
daubings, but an absolute blank. 

Among all the beauties which shine in sunny robes, 
and sip the silver dews, this, I think, has the noblest 
import, if not the finest presence. Were they all to 
pass in review, and expect the award of superiority 
from my decision, I should not hesitate a moment. 
Be the prize assigned to this amiable candidate ; 
which has so eminently distinguished and so highly 
dignified herself, by bearing such a remarkable re- 
semblance to ' the righteous Branch; the Plant of 
renown.'* While others appoint it a place in the 
parterre, I would transplant the passion-flower, or 
rather transfer its sacred significancy, to my heart. 
There let it bloom, both in summer and in winter; 
bloom, in the most impressive characters, and with 
an undecaying lustre: that I may also wear — wear 



A FLOWER-GARDEN 141 

on my very soul, the traces of Immanuel ; pierced 
for my sins, and bruised for my transgressions : that 
1 also may be crucified with Christ, * at least in peni- 
tential remorse, and affectionate sympathy : that I 
may know the fellowship of his sufferings ; f and feel 
all my evil affections wounded by his agonies, mor- 
tified by his death. 

There is another subject of the verdant kingdom, 
which, on account of its very uncommon qualities, 
demands my particular notice: one, so extremely 
diffident in her disposition, and delicate in her con- 
stitution, that she dares not venture herself abroad 
in the open air, but is nursed up in the warmth of a 
hot-bed, and lives cloistered in the cells of a green- 
house. But, the most curious peculiarity is, that of 
all her kindred species, she alone partakes of percep- 
tive life ; at least, advances nearest to this more ex- 
alted state of being ; and may be looked upon as the 
link which connects the animal and the vegetable 
world. A stranger, observing her motions, would al- 
most be induced to suspect, that she is endued with 
some inferior degrees of consciousness and caution. 
For if you offer to handle this sensitive plant, she 
immediately takes an alarm; hastily contracts her 
fibres; and, like a person under apprehensions of 
violence, withdraws from our finger in a kind of pre- 
cipitate disorder. Perhaps the beauty of her aspect 
might be sullied, or the niceness of her texture dis- 
composed, by the human touch. Therefore, like a 
coy virgin, she recedes from all unbecoming familiari- 
ties, and will admit no such improper, if not perni- 
cious freedoms. 
Whatever be the cause of this unusual effect, it 
*Gal. ii. 20. + Phil. iii. 10. 



142 REFLECTIONS ON 

suggests an instructive admonition to the Christian. 
Such should be our apprehensive timorous care with 
regard to sin; and all, even the most distant, ap- 
proaches of vice. So should we avoid the very ap- 
pearance of evil, and stand aloof from every occasion 
of falling. If sinners entice; if forbidden pleasures 
tempt; or if opportunity beckon, with the gain of 
injustice in her hand : O ! turn from the gilded snare ; 
touch not the beauteous bane; but fly, fly with haste, 
fly without any delay, from the bewitching ruin. 
Does anger draw near with her lighted torch, or 
kindle the flame of resentment in our breasts ? Does 
flattery ply our ears with her enchanting and intoxi- 
cating whispers ? Would discontent lay her leaden 
hand upon our temper, and mould into our minds 
her sour leaven, in order to make us a burden to 
ourselves and unamiable to others ? Instantly let us 
divert our attention from the dangerous objects ; and 
not so much endeavour to antidote, as to shun, the 
moral contagion. Let us revolve in our meditations 
that wonderful. .meekness of our distressed Master, 
which, amidst the most abusive and provoking in- 
sults, maintained an uniform tenor of unshaken sere- 
nity. Let us contemplate that prodigious humiliation, 
which brought him, from an infinite height above all 
worlds, to make his bed in the dust of death. Let 
us soothe our jarring, our uneasy passions, with the 
remembrance of that cheerfulness and resignation, 
which rendered him, in the deepest poverty, un- 
feignedly thankful, and, under the heaviest tribula- 
tions, most submissively patient. 

Harbour not, on any consideration, the betrayer of 
your virtue. Be deaf, inflexibly deaf, to every be- 
guiling solicitation. If it obtrude into the unguarded 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 143 

heart; give it entertainment, no, not for a moment. 
To parley with the enemy, is to open a door for de- 
struction. Our safety consists in flight ; and in this 
case, suspicion is the truest prudence, fear the great- 
est bravery. Play not on the brink of the precipice. 
Flutter not round the edges of the flame. Dally not 
with the stings of death: but reject, with a becoming 
mixture of solicitude and abhorrence, the very first 
insinuations of iniquity, as cautiously as the smart- 
ing sore shrinks even from the softest hand ; as con- 
stantly as this jealous plant recoils at the approaching 
touch.* 

Not long ago these curious productions of the spring 
were coarse and mis-shapen roots. Had we opened 
the earth, and beheld them in their seed, how uncouth 
and contemptible had their appearance been .' But 
now they are the boast of nature; the delight of the 



of bribes; and, I may add from practi-ing any kind of iniquity. 
The image, exceedingly beautiful and equally expressive, boili 
illustrates and enforces the doctrine of this whole section. 
Shaketh his hands: just asa person would do, who happens to 
have burning coals fail into his lap, or some venomous crea- 
ture fastening upon his flesh. In such a case none would 
stand a moment to consider or debate with himself the ex- 
pediency of the thing. He would instantly fling off the per- 
nicious encumbrance, instantly endeavour to disengage him- 
self from the clinging: mischief! Isai. xxxiii. 1.5. 

I have represented the danger of not extinguishing imme- 
diately the very (irst sparks of temptation in a variety of 
views; because a proper behaviour, in this conjuncture, is of 
such vast importance to the puritv, the safety, and the com- 
forts of our minds ; because I had the royal moralist in my 
eye, who, deterring his pupils from the path of the wicked, 
Cries, with an air ot deep concern, and in the language of 
vehement importunity ; cries, Avoid it; pass not by it; turn 
from it, and pass away. How strongly is the counsel urged 
by being so frequently repeated in such a remarkable diver- 
sity of concise and abrupt, consequently of forcible and 
pressing admonitions' Prov. iv. 15. 



144 REFLECTIONS ON 

sons of men ; finished patterns for enamelling and 
embroidery ; outshining even the happiest strokes of 
the pencil. They are taught to bloom, but with a 
very inferior lustre, in the richest tapestries and most 
magnificent silks. Art never attempts to equal their 
incomparable elegancies, but places all her merit in 
copying after these delicate originals. Even those, 
who glitter in silver, or whose clothing is of wrought 
gold, are desirous to borrow additional ornaments 
from a sprig of jessamine or a little assemblage of 
pmks. 

What a fine idea may we form from hence of the 
resurrection of the just, and the state of their reani- 
mated bodies! As the roots even of our choicest 
flowers, when deposited in the ground, are rude and 
ungraceful, but when they spring up into blooming 
life are most elegant and splendid; so the flesh of a 
saint, when committed to the dust, alas! what is it? 
A heap of corruption ; a mass of putrefying clay. 
But, when it obeys the great archangel's call, and 
starts into a new existence; what an astonishing 
change ensues ! What a most ennobling improvement 
takes place ! That which was sown in weakness, is 
raised in all the vivacity of power. That which was 
sown in deformity is raised in the bloom of celestial 
beauty. Exalted, refined and glorified, it will shine 
'as the brightness of the firmament,' when it darts 
the inimitable blue through the fleeces, the snowy 
fleeces of some cleaving cloud. 

Fear not then, thou faithful Christian; fear not at 
the appointed time to descend into the tomb. Thy 
soul thou ma, st trust with thy omnipotent Redeemer, 
who is Lord of the unseen world ; * who has the keys 
of hell, and of death.' Most safely mayst thou trust 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 145 

thy better part in those beneficent hands which were 
pierced with nails, and fastened to the ignominious 
tree, for thy salvation. With regard to thy earthly 
tabernacle, be not dismayed. It is taken down only 
to be rebuilt upon a diviner plan, and in a more hea- 
venly form. If it retires into the shadow of death, 
and lies immured in the gloom of the grave, it is 
only to return from a short confinement to endless 
liberty. If it falls into dissolution, it is in order to 
rise more illustrious from its ruins, and wear an infi- 
nitely brighter face of perfection, and of glory. 

Having now made my panegyric, let me next take 
up a lamentation for these loveliest productions of 
the vegetable world. For I foresee their approaching 
doom. Yet a little while, and all these pleasing scenes 
vanish. Yet a little while, and all the sweets of the 
breathing, all the beauties of the blooming spring, 
are no more. Every one of these amiable forms 
must be shrivelled to deformity and trodden to the 
earth. Significant resemblance this, of all created 
beauty. All flesh is grass; like the green herbage, 
liable and prone to fade. Nay, all the goodliness 
thereof, its finest accomplishments, and what the 
•world universally admires, is as the flower of the 
field,* which loses its gloss, decays and perishes, 
more speedily than the grass itself. Behold then, ye 
brightest among the daughters of Eve ; behold your- 
selves in this glass. See the charms of your persons 
ecnpsed by the lustre of these little flowers; and the 
frailty of your state represented by their transient 
glories. A fever may scorch those polished veins ; a 
consumption may emaciate the dimpling cheeks ; and 
a load of unexpected sorrows depress those lively 

* Isal. xi. 6. 
14 



146 REFLECTIONS ON 

spirits. Or should these disasters, in pity, spare the 
tender frame ; yet age, inexorable age and wrinkles, 
will assuredly come at last; will wither all the fine 
features, and blast every sprightly grace. 

Then, ye fair, when those sparkling eyes are dark- 
ened, and sink in their orbs ; when they are rolling 
in agonies, or swimming in death, how will you sus- 
tain the affliction? how will you repair the loss? 
Apply your thoughts to religion. Attend to the one 
thing needful. Believe in, and imitate, the blessed 
Jesus. Then shall your souls mount up to the realms 
of happiness; when the well-proportioned clay is 
mingling with its mean original. The light of God's 
countenance will irradiate with matchless and con- 
summate perfection, all their exalted faculties. 
Cleansed entirely from every dreg of corruption, like 
some unsullied mirror, they will reflect the complete 
image of their Creator's holiness. O ! that you would 
thus dress your minds and prepare for the immortal 
state ! Then, from shining among your fellow-crea- 
tures on earth, you shall be translated to shine around 
the throne of God. Then, from being the sweeteners 
of our life, and the delight of our eyes, here below, 
you shall pass, by an easy transition, into angels of 
light, and become ' an everlasting excellency, the joy 
of all generations.' 

Yes ; ye flowery nations ; ye must all decay. Yon- 
der lily, that looks like the queen of the gay creation ; 
see, how gracefully it erects its majestic head ! What 
an air of dignity and grandeur ennobles itsa.:pect! 
For elevated mien, as well as for incomparable lustre, 
justly may it be preferred to the magnificent monarch 
of the east.* But, all stately and charming as It is, it 
* Matt. vi. 29. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 147 

will hardly survive a few more days. That unspotted 
whiteness must quickly be tarnished; and the snowy 
form defiled in the dust. 

As the lily pleases with the noble simplicity of its 
appearance ; the tulip is admired for the gaiety and 
multiplicity of its colours. Never was cup, either 
painted or enamelled, with such a profusion of dyes. 
Its tinges are so glowing; its contrasts so strong; and 
the arrangement of them both, so elegant and artful ! 
'Twas lately the pride of the border, and the reigning 
beauty of the delightful season. As exquisitely fine 
as the rainbow, and almost as extremely transient, it 
spread for a little moment its glittering plumage, 
but has now laid all its variegated and superior 
honours down. Those radiant stripes are blended, 
alas ! rudely blended with common mould. 

To a graceful shape, and blooming complexion, the 
rose adds the most agreeable perfume. Our nostrils 
make it repeated visits, and are never weary of drink- 
ing in its sweets. A fragrance, so peculiarly rich and 
reviving, transpires from its opening tufts ; that every 
one covets its acquaintance. How have I seen even 
the accomplished Clarissa, for whom so many votaries 
languish, fondly caressing this little flower ! That 
lovely bosom, which is the seat of innocence and of 
virtue ; whose least excellency it is to rival the deli- 
cacy of the purest snows ; among a thousand charms 
of its own, thinks it possible to adopt another from 
the damask rose-bud. Yet even this universal 
favourite must fail. Its native balm cannot preserve 
it from putrefaction. Soon, soon, must it resign all 
those endearing qualities, and hang neglected on its 
stem, or drop despised to the ground. 

One could wish, methinks, these most amiable of 



148 REFLECTIONS ON 

the inanimate race a longer existence: but in vain: 
they fade almost as soon as they flourish ; within less 
than a month their glories are extinct. Let the sun 
take a few more journeys through the sky, then visit 
this enchanting walk, and you will find nothing but 
a wretched wilderness of ragged or naked stalks — 
but (my soul exults in the thought) the garment of 
celestial glory, which shall ere long array the re-ani- 
mated body, will never wax old. The illustrious 
robes of a Saviour's consummate righteousness, which 
even now adorn the justified spirits, are incorruptible 
and immortal. No moth can corrode their texture; 
no number of ages sully their brightness. The light 
of day may be quenched, and all the stars sink in 
obscurity; but the honours of 'just men made per- 
fect,' are subject to no diminution. Inextinguishable 
and unfading is the lustre of their crown. 

Yes; ye flowery nations, ye must all decay. Win- 
ter, like some enraged and irresistible conqueror, that 
carries fire and sword wherever he advances ; that 
demolishes towns, depopulates countries, spreads 
slaughter and desolation on every side — so, just so, 
will winter, with his savage and unrelenting blasts, 
invade this beautiful prospect. The storms are ga- 
thering, and the tempests mustering their rage, to 
fall upon the vegetable kingdoms. They will ravage 
through the dominions of nature, and plunder her 
riches, and lay waste her charms. Then, ye trees, 
must ye stand stripped of your verdant apparel ; and, 
ye fields, be spoiled of your waving treasures. Then 
the earth, disrobed of all her gay attire, must sit in 
sables, like a disconsolate widow. The sun too, who 
now rides in triumph round the world, and scatters 
gaiety from his radiant eye, will then look faintly 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 149 

from the windows of the south, and, casting a short 
glance on our dejected world, will leave us to the un- 
comfortable gloom of tedious nights. Then these 
pretty choristers of the air will chant no more to the 
gentle gales; the lark, the linnet, and all the fea- 
thered songsters, adandon their notes and indulge their 
woes. The harmony of the woods is at an end ; and 
silence (unless it be interrupted by howling winds,) 
a sullen silence, sits brooding upon the boughs, 
which are now made vocal by a thousand warbling 
throats. 

But (sweet recollection ! ravishing expectation !) 
the songs of saints in light never admit a pause for 
sadness. All heaven will resound with the melody of 
their gratitude, and all eternity echo to their tri- 
umphant acclamations. The hallelujahs of that 
world, and the harmonious joy of its inhabitants will 
be as lasting as the divine perfections they celebrate. 
Come then, holy love, and tune my heart ; descend, 
celestial fire, and touch my tongue, that I may stand 
ready to strike up, and bear my part in that great 
hosanna, that everlasting hymn. 

Yes, yes, ye flowery nations, ye must all decay. 
And, indeed, could you add the strength of an oak, 
or the stability of a pyramid, to all the delicacy of 
your texture; yet short, exceeding short, even then, 
would your duration be. For I see, that all things 
come to an end. The pillars of nature are tottering. 
The foundations of the round world are falling away. 
* The heavens themselves wax old like a garment.' 
But, amidst these views of general ruin, here is our 
refuge ; this is our consolation ; we know that our 
Redeemer liveth. Thy years, blessed Jesus, shall 
not fail. From everlasting to everlasting. Thou art 
14* 



150 REFLECTIONS ON 

still the same; the same most excellent and adorable 
person! the same omnipotent and faithful friend; 
the same all-sufficient and inestimable portion. O ! 
may we but partake of thy merits, be sanctified by 
thy grace, and received into thy glory ! Then perish, 
if ye will, all inferior delights. Let all that is splen- 
did in the skies, expire; and all that is amiable in 
nature, be expunged. Let the whole extent of crea- 
tion be turned again into one undistinguishable void, 
one universal blank. Yet if God be ours, we shall 
have enough. If God be ours, we shall have all, and 
abound;* all that our circumstances can want, or 
our wishes crave, to make us inconceivably blessed 
and happy ; blessed and happy, not only through this 
little interval of time, but through the immeasurable 
revolutions of eternity. 

The sun is now come forth in his strength, and 
beats fiercely upon my throbbing pulse. Let me re- 
tire to yonder inviting arbour. There the woodbine* 
retain the lucid drop ; there the jessamines, which 
line the verdant alcove, are still impearled, and de- 
liciously wet with dews. Welcome, ye refreshing 
shades ! I feel, I feel, your cheering influence. My 
languid spirits revive; the slackened sinews are new 
strung; and life bounds brisker through all her crim- 
son channels. 

Reclined on this mossy couch, and surrounded by 
this fragrant coldness, let me renew my aspirations to 
the ever-present Deity. Here, let me remember and 
imitate the pious Augustine and his mother Monica; 
who, being engaged in discourse on the beauties of 

* His hand ihe good man fastens on the skies, 
And bids earth roil, nor feels the idle whirl. 

Night Thoughts, N. if. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 151 

the visible creation, rose, by these ladders, to the 
glories of the invisible state ; till they were inspired 
with the most affecting sense of their super-eminent 
excellency, and actuated with the most ardent breath- 
ings after their full enjoyment ; insomuch, that they 
were almost wrapt up into the bliss they contemplated ; 
and scarce • knew, whether they were in the body, or 
out of the body.' 

When tempests toss the ocean ; when plaintive 
signals of distress are heard from the bellowing deep ; 
and melancholy tokens of shipwreck come floating 
on the foaming surge ; then, how delightful to stand 
safe on shore, and hug one's self in conscious se- 
curity !* When a glut of waters bursts from some 
mighty torrent, rushes headlong over all the neigh- 
bouring plains, sweeps away the helpless cattle, and 
drives the affrighted shepherd from his hut ; then, 
from the top of a distant eminence, to descry the 
danger we need not fear ; how pleasing ! — Such 
methinks, is my present situation. For now the sun 
blazes from on high ; the air glows with his fire ; the 
fields are rent with chinks ; the roads are scorched to 
dust ; the woods seem to contract a sickly aspect, 
and a russet hue ; the traveller, broiled as he rides, 
hastens to his inn, and intermits his journey; the 
labourer, bathed in sweat, drops the scythe, and de- 
sists from his work ; the cattle flee to some shady 
covert, or else pant and toss under the burning noon. 

* As Lucretius grave the hint for these observations, so he 
assigns the reason of the pleasure specified. It arises, not 
from the consideration of another's misery ; this would argue 
the rankest malevolence : but from the agreeable contempla- 
tion of our own personal safety ; which, while we view cir- 
cumstances that are pernicious to others, but harmless to our- 
selves, is not a little heightened by the contrast. Suave mari 
mango, &c. 



152 REFLECTIONS ON 

Even the stubborn rock, smit with the piercing 
beams, is ready to cleave. All things languish be- 
neath the dazzling deluge — while I shall enjoy a cool 
hour, and calm reflection, amidst the gloom of this 
bowery recess, which scarce admits one speck of 
sunshine. 

Thus, may both the flock and their shepherd dwell 
beneath the defence of the Most High, and abide 
under the shadow of the Almighty.* Then, though 
the pestilence walketh in darkness, and the sickness 
destroyeth at noon-day; though thousands fall beside 
us, and ten thousands at our right hand ; we need 
fear no evil. I Either the destroying angel shall pass 
over our houses ; or else he shall dispense the cor- 
rections of a friend, not the scourges of an enemy ; 
which, instead of hurting us, shall work for our 
good. Then, though profaneness and infidelity, far 
more malignant evils, breathe deadly contagion, and 
taint the morals of multitudes around us ; yet, if the 
great Father of Spirits • hide us in the hollow of his 
hand,' we shall hold fast our integrity, and be faith- 
ful unto death. 

Let then, dearest Lord, O ! let thy servant and the 
people committed to his care, be received into thy 
protection. Let us take sanctuary under that tree of 
life, erected in thy ignominious cross. Let us fly for 
safety to that city of refuge, opened in thy bleeding 
wounds. These shall be a sacred hiding-place, not to 
be pierced by the flames of divine wrath, or the fiery 
darts of temptation. Thy dying merits, and perfect 
obedience, shall be to our souls, as rivers of water in 

» Psalm xci. 1. 

+ This was written when a very infections and mortal dU- 
temper raged in the neighbourhood. 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 153 

a dry place, or as the shadow of a great rock in a 
weary land.* 

But most of all, in that last tremendous day, when 
the heavens are rent asunder, and wrapped up like a 
scroll ; when thy Almighty arm shall arrest the sun 
in his career, and dash to pieces the structure of the 
universe ; when the dead, both small and great, shall 
be gathered before the throne of thy glory ; and the 
fates of all mankind hang on the very point of a final 
irreversible decision :— Then, blessed Jesus, let us be 
owned by Thee, and we shall not be ashamed ; de- 
fended by Thee, and we shall not be afraid. O ! may 
we, at that awful, that unutterably important junc- 
ture, be covered with the wings of thy redeeming 
love ; and we shall behold all the borrible convulsions 
of expiring nature, with composure, with comfort ! 
We shall even welcome the dissolution of all things, 
as the times of refreshing from the presence of th(j 
Lord.f 

There are, I perceive, who still attend the flowers ; 
and, in defiance of the sun, ply their work on every 
expanded blossom. The bees I mean ; that nation 
of chemists, to whom nature has communicated the 
rare and valuable secret, of enriching themselves 
without impoverishing others ; who extract the most 
delicious syrup from every fragrant herb, without 
wounding its substance, or diminishing its odours. 
I take the more notice of these ingenious operators, 
because I would willingly make them my pattern. 
While the gay butterfly flutters her painted wings, 
and sips a little fantastic delight only for the present 
moment ; while the gloomy spider, worse than idly 
busied, is preparing his insidious nets for destruction, 
* Isai. xxxii. 2. t Acts iii. 19. 



154 REFLECTIONS ON 

or sucking venom, even from the most wholesome 
plants; this frugal community are wisely employed 
in providing for futurity, and collecting a copious 
stock of the most balmy treasures. And O ! might 
these meditations sink into my soul ! Would the 
God, who suggested each heavenly thought, vouch- 
safe to convert it into an established principle ; to de- 
termine all my inclinations, and regulate my whole 
conduct! I should then gather advantages from the 
same blooming objects, more precious than your 
golden stores, ye industrious artists. I also should go 
home, laden with the richest sweets and the noblest 
spoils; though I crop not a leaf, nor call a single 
flower my own. 

Here I behold, assembled in one view, almost all 
the various beauties which have been severally enter- 
taining my imagination. The vistas, struck through 
an ancient wood, or formed by rows of venerable 
elms, conducting the spectator's observation to some 
remarkable object, or leading the traveller's footsteps 
to this delightful seat; the walls enriched with fruit 
trees, and faced with a covering of their leafy exten- 
sions; I should rather have said, hung with different 
pieces of nature's noblest tapestry ; the walks neatly 
shorn and lined with verdure, or finely smoothed and 
coated with gravel; the alleys arched with shades to 
embower our noon-tide repose, or thrown open fcf 
the free accession of air to invite us to our evening 
recreation ; the decent edgings of box, which inclose, 
like a plain selvage, each beautiful compartment, 
and its splendid figures; the shapely evergreens and 
flowering shrubs, which strike the eye, and appear 
with peculiar dignity in this distant situation; the 
bason with its crystal fount floating in the centre, and 



A FLOWER-GARDEN. 155 

diffusing an agreeable freshness through the whole; 
the waters, falling from a remote cascade, and gently 
murmuring as they flow along the pebbles; these, 
added to the rest, and all so disposed, that each re- 
commends and endears each, render the whole a most 
sweet ravishing scene of order and variety, of ele- 
gance and magnificence. 

From so many lovely prospects clustering upon the 
sight, it is impossible not to be reminded of heaven; 
that world of bliss, those regions of light, where the 
Lamb that was slain manifests his beatific presence, 
and his saints live for evermore. But O ! what 
pencil can sketch out a draught of that goodly land ! 
What colours or what style can express the splendours 
of Immanuel's kingdom ! Would some celestial hand 
draw aside the veil but for one moment, and permit 
us to throw a single glance on those divine abodes; 
how would all sublunary possessions become tar- 
nished in our eyes, and grow flat upon our taste ! A 
glimpse, a transient glimpse of those unutterable 
beatitudes would captivate our souls and engross all 
their faculties. Eden itself, after such a vision, 
would appear a cheerless desert, and all earthly 
charms intolerable deformity. 

Very excellent things are spoken of thee, thou city 
of God.* Volumes have been written, and those by 
inspired men, to display the wonders of thy perfec- 
tions. All that is rich and resplendent in the visible 
creation has been called in to aid our conceptions, 
and elevate our ideas; but indeed, no tongue can 
utter, no pen can describe, no fancy can imagine, 
what God, of his unbounded munificence, has pre- 
pared for them that love him. Seeing then, that ail 
* Psal. lxxx\ii. a. 



156 REFLECTIONS, &c. 

terrestrial things must come to a speedy end, and 
there remaineth a rest, a blissful and everlasting rest, 
for the people of God; let me never be too fondly 
attached to any present satisfactions; weaned from 
whatever is temporal, may I maintain a superior in- 
difference for such transitory enjoyments ! but long, 
long earnestly for the mansions that are above, the 
paradise • which the Lord hath planted, and not 
man.' Thither may I transmit the chief of my con- 
versation, and from thence expect the whole of my 
happiness. Be that the sacred powerful magnet 
which ever influences my heart, ever attracts my 
affections ; there are such transcendent glories, as 
eye has not seen; there are such transporting plea- 
sures as ear has not heard ; there is such a fulness of 
joy, as the thought of man cannot conceive. 

Into that consummate felicity, those eternal frui- 
tions ; permit me, Madam, to wish you, in due time, 
an abundant entrance; and to assure you, that this 
wish is breathed with the same sincerity and ardour 
for my honoured correspondent, as it is Madam, for 
Your most obedient, &c. 

J. Hbrvby. 



DESCANT UPON CREATION. 



If the reader pleases to look back on page 120 ; he 
will find me engaged by a promissory note, to subjoin 
a descant upon Creation. 

To know the love of Christ ; to have such a deep 
apprehension of his unspeakable kindness, as may 
produce in our hearts an adoring gratitude and an 
unfeigned faith; this, according to St. Paul's esti- 
mate, is the highest and happiest attainment in the 
sacred science of Christianity.* What follows is an 
attempt to assist the attentive mind in learning a 
line or two of that best and greatest lesson ; it intro- 
duces the most conspicuous parts of the visible sys- 
tem, as so many prompters to our dull affections; 
each suggesting a hint adapted to the important oc- 
casion, and suited to its respective character. 

Can there be a more powerful incentive to devout 
gratitude, than to consider the magnificent and de- 
licate scenes of the universe, with a particular re- 
ference to Christ, as the Creator? Every object, 
viewed in this light, will surely administer incessant 
recruits to the languishing lamp of divine love. Every 
production in nature will strike a spark into the soul, 
and the whole creation concur to raise the smoking 
flax into a flame. 

* Eph. iil. 19 
15 



158 A DESCANT 

Can any thing impart a stronger joy to the be- 
liever, or more effectually confirm his faith in the 
crucified Jesus, than to behold the heavens declaring 
his glory, and the firmanent showing his handy-work ? 
Surely it must be matter of inexpressible consolation 
to the poor sinner, to observe the honours of his Re- 
deemer written with sunbeams over all the face of the 
world. 

We delight to read an account of our incarnate 
Jehovah, as he is revealed in the books of Moses and 
the prophets, as he is displayed in the writings of 
the evangelists and apostles. Let us also endeavour 
to see a sketch of his perfections, as they stand deli- 
neated in that stately volume, where every leaf is 
a spacious plain ; every line, a flowing brook ; every 
period, a lofty mountain. 

Should any of my readers be unexercised in such 
speculations, I beg leave (in pursuance of my pro- 
mise) to present them with a specimen, or to offer a 
ciue, which may possibly lead their minds into this 
most improving and delightful train of thinking. 

Should any be inclined to suspect the solidity of 
the following observations, or to condemn them as 
the voice of rant, and the lawless flight of fancy ; I 
must entreat such persons to recollect, that the grand 
doctrine, the hinge on which they all turn, is war- 
ranted and established by the unanimous testimony 
of the inspired penmen, who frequently celebrate 
Immanuel, or Christ Jesus, as the great Almighty 
Cause of all; assuring us that all things were created 
by him and for him, and that in him all things con- 
sist* 

On such a subject, what is wonderful is far from 
* Col. i. 16, 17. 



UPON CREATION. 159 

being extravagant. To be wonderful, is the insepa- 
rable characteristic of God and his works, especially 
of that most distinguished and glorious event of the 
divine works, redemption ; so glorious, that ■ all the 
miracles in Egypt, and the marvellous acts in the 
field of Zoan;' all that the Jewish annals have re- 
corded, or the human ear has heard, all dwindle into 
trivial events, are scarce worthy to be remembered,* 
in comparison of this infinitely grand and infinitely 
gracious transaction. Kindled, therefore, into pleas- 
ing astonishment by such a survey, let me give full 
scope to my meditations; let me pour out my whole 
soul on the boundless subject; not much regarding 
the limits which cold criticism, or colder unbelief, 
might prescribe. 

O ye angels, that surround the throne ; ye princes 
of heaven « that excel in strength,' and are clothed 
with transcendent brightness ; he, who placed you in 
those stations of exalted honour, and dignified your 
nature with such illustrious endowments; he, whom 
you all obey and all adore : he took not on him the 
angelic form, but was made flesh, and found in fashion 
as a man. Like us wretched mortals, he was subject 
to weariness, pain, and every infirmity, sin only ex- 
cepted ; that we might one day be raised to your sub- 
lime abodes, be adopted into your blissful society, 
and join with your transported choir in giving glory 
to him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb 
for ever and ever.f 

O ye heavens, whose azure arches rise immensely 

high, and stretch immeasurably wide; stupendous 

amphitheatre ! amidst whose vast expansive circuit, 

orbs of the most dreadful grandeur are perpetually 

* Isa. xliii. 18. + Rev. v. 13. 



160 A DESCANT 

running their amazing races ; unfathomable depths of 
ether ! where worlds unnumbered float, and, to our 
limited sight, worlds unnumbered are lost; he who 
adjusted your dimensions with his span, and formed 
the magnificent structure with his word ; he was once 
wrapt in swaddling-clothes, and laid in a manger; 
that the benefits accruing to his people, through his 
most meritorious humiliation, might have no other 
measure of their value than immensity ; might run 
parallel, in their duration with eternity. 

Ye stars, that beam with inextinguishable bril- 
liancy through the midnight sky; oceans of flame 
and centres of worlds, though seemingly little points 
of light! he who shone with essential effulgence, in- 
numerable ages before your twinkling tapers were 
kindled, and will shine with everlasting majesty and 
beauty when your places in the firmament shall be 
known no more ; he was involved for many years in 
the deepest obscurity; lay concealed in the contempti- 
ble city Nazareth; lay disguised under the mean habit 
of a carpenter's son ; that he might plant the heavens* 
as it were with new constellations, and array these 
clods of earth, these houses of clay, with a radiancy 
far superior to yours ; a radiancy which will adorn 
the very heaven of heavens, when you shall vanish 
away like smoke, f or expire as momentary sparks 
from the smitten steel. 

Comets, that sometimes shoot into the illimitable 

* Isai. ii. 16. 

t Alluding to a passage in Isaiah, which is, f think, grand 
and elevated beyond all comparison. Lift up your eyes to 
the heavens, and look upon the earth bem-ath : lor the hea- 
vens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax 
old like a garment, and they that dwell therein shall die like 
the feeble insect ; but my righteousness shall be for ever, and 
my salvation shall not be abolished. Isa. ii. 6. 



UPON CREATION. 161 

tracts of ether, farther than the discernment of our 
eye is able to follow; sometimes return from the 
long, long excursion, and sweep our affrighted hemi- 
sphere with your enormous fiery train; that some- 
times make near approaches to the sun, and burn 
almost in his immediate beams ; sometimes retire to 
the remotest distance, and freeze for ages in the ex- 
cessive rigours of winter: he, who at his sovereign 
pleasure withdraws the blazing wonder, or leads forth 
the portentous stranger to shake terror over guilty 
kingdoms ; he was overwhelmed with the most shock- 
"tng amazement, and plunged into the deepest anxiety ; 
was chilled with apprehensions of fear, and scorched 
by the flames of avenging wrath ; that I, and other 
depraved rebellious creatures, might not be eternally 
agitated with the extremes of jarring passions; oppo- 
site, yet on either side tormenting ; far more torment- 
ing to the soul than the severest degrees of your heat 
and cold to the human sense. 

Ye planets, that, winged with unimaginable speed, 
traverse the regions of the sky ; sometimes climbing 
millions and millions of miles above, sometimes de- 
scending as far below the great axle of your motions : 
ye that are so minutely faithful to the vicissitudes of 
day and night, so exactly punctual in bringing on the 
changes of your respective stations : he who launched 
you at first from his mighty arm ; who continually 
impels you with such wonderful rapidity, and guides 
you with such perfect regularity ; who fixes ' the 
habitation of his holiness and his glory,' infinite 
heights above your scanty rounds; he once became a 
helpless infant, sojourned in our inferior world, fled 
from the persecutor's sword, and wandered as a vaga- 
bond in a foreign land ; that he might lead our feet 
15* 



162 A DESCANT 

into the way of peace : that he might hring us aliens 
near to God, bring us exiles home to heaven. 

Thou sun, inexhausted source of light, and heat, 
and comfort ! who, without the assistance of any other 
fire, sheddest day through a thousand realms, and not 
confining thy munificence to realms only, extendest 
thy enlightening influences to surrounding worlds ; 
prime cheerer of the animal, and great enlivener of 
the vegetable tribes ! so beautiful in thyself, so bene- 
ficial in thy effects, that erring heathens addressed 
thee with adorations, and mistook thee for their 
Maker ! He who filled thy orb with a profusion of 
lustre, before whom thy meridian splendours are but 
a shade; he divested himself of his all-transcending 
distinctions, and drew a veil over the effulgence of 
his divinity ; that, by speaking to us face to face, as 
a man speaketh unto his friend, he might dispel our 
intellectual darkness. His 'visage was marred,'* and 
he became the scorn of men, the outcast of the peo- 
ple; that, by this manifestation of his unutterably 
tender regard for our welfare, he might diffuse many 
a gleam of joy through our dejected minds ; that, in 
another state of things, he might clothe even our 
fallen nature with the honours of that magnificent 
luminary, and give all the righteous to shine forth as 
the sun in the kingdom of their Father. 

Thou moon, that walkest among the host of stars, 
and in thy lucid appearance art superior to them all ; 
fair ruler of the night ; sometimes half restoring the 
day with thy waxing brightness ; sometimes waning 
into dimness, and scarcely scattering the nocturnal 
gloom ; sometimes covered with sackcloth, and alarm- 
ing the gazing nations : he who dresses thy opaque 
• lea. lii. 14, 



UPON CREATION. 163 

globe in beaming but borrowed silver ; he whose 
dignity is unchangeable, underived, and all his own i 
he vouchsafed to wear a body of clay; he was content 
to appear as in a bloody eclipse, shorn of his resplen- 
dent beams, and surrounded with a night of horror, 
which knew not one reviving ray. Thus has he em- 
powered his church and all believers, to tread the 
moon under their feet.* Hence, inspired with the 
hope of brighter glory and more enduring bliss, are 
they enabled to triumph over all the vain anxieties 
and vainer amusements of this sublunary, precarious, 
mutable world. 

Ye thunders, that, awfully grumbling in the dis- 
tant clouds, seem to meditate indignation, and form 
the first essays of a far more frightful peal, or sud- 
denly bursting over our heads, rend the vault above, 
and shake the ground below, with the hideous, 
horrid crack : ye that send your tremendous volleys 
from pole to pole, startling the savage herds,! and 
astonishing the human race : he who permits terror 
to sound her trumpet in your deep, prolonged, en- 
larging, aggravated roar; he uttered a feeble infan- 
tile cry in the stable, and strong expiring groans on 
the accursed tree; that he might, in the gentlest ac- 
cents, whisper peace to our souls, and at length tune 
our voices to the melody of heaven. 

O ye lightnings, that brood, and lie couchant iu 
the sulphureous vapours; that glance, with forked 
fury, from the angry gloom, swifter and fiercer than 
the lion rushes from his den ; or open into vast ex- 
pansive sheets of flame, sublimely waved over the 
prostrate world, and fearfully lingering in the af- 
frighted skies : ye, that formerly laid in ashes the 
* Rev. xii. I. f Psal. xxix. 8. 



164 A DESCANT 

licentious abodes of lust and violence ; that will, ere 
long, set on fire the elements, and co-operate in the 
conflagration of the globe : he who kindles your flash, 
and directs you when to sally, and where to strike; 
he who commissions your whirling bolts, whom to 
kill and whom to spare ; he resigned his sacred per- 
son to the most barbarous indignities, submitted his 
beneficent hands to the ponderous hammer and the 
piercing nail, yea, withheld not his heart, his very 
heart, from the stab of the executioner's spear; and, 
instead of flashing confusion on his outrageous tor- 
mentors, instead of plunging them to the depths of 
hell with his frown, he cried— in his last moments, 
and with his agonizing lips, he cried, « Father, for- 
give them, for they know not what they do ! — O ! 
what a pattern of patience for his saints ! what an 
object of admiration for angels ! what a constellation 
of every mild, amiable, and benign virtue ; shining, 
in this hour of darkness, with ineffable splendour and 
beauty! — Hence, hence, it is, that we are not trem- 
bling under the lightnings of Mount Sinai ; that we 
are not blasted by the flames of divine vengeance ; or 
doomed to dwell with everlasting burnings. 

Ye frowning wintry clouds; oceans pendant in the 
air, and burdening the winds : he, in whose hand you 
are an overflowing scourge, or by whose appointment 
an arsenal of warlike stores : he who opens your 
sluices, and a flood gushes forth, to destroy the fruits 
of the earth, and drown the husbandman's hopes; 
who moulds you into frozen balls, and you are shot, 
linked with death,* on the troops of his enemies : he, 

* Job lias informed us, for what purpose the magazines of 
tlie firmament are stocked with hail. That they may be 
ready against the day of battle and war. Job xxxviii. 23. 



UPON CREATION. 165 

instead of discharging the furiousness of his wrath 
upon this guilty head, poured out his prayers, poured 
out his sighs, poured out his very soul, for me and 
my fellow-transgressors ; that by virtue of his inesti- 
mable propitiation, the overflowings of divine good- 
will might be extended to sinful men ; that the skies 
might pour down righteousness ; and peace, on her 
downy wings, peace with her balmy blessings, de- 
scend to dwell on earth. 

Ye vernal clouds, furls of finer air, folds of softer 
moisture : he who draws you in copious exhalations 
from the briny deep, bids you leave every distasteful 
quality behind, and become floating fountains of 
sweetest waters: he, who dissolves you into gentle 
rain, and dismisses you in fruitful showers ; who 
kindly commissions you to drop down fatness as you 
fall, and to scatter flowers over the field : he, in the 
unutterable bitterness of his spirit, was without any 
comforting sense of his Almighty Father's presence; 
he, when his bones were burnt up like a fire-brand, 
had not one drop of that sacred consolation which, 
on many of his afflicted servants, has been distilled 
as the evening dews, and has « given songs in the 
night' of distress ; that, from this unallayed and in- 
consolable anguish of our all-gracious Master, we, as 
from a well of salvation, might derive large draughts 
of spiritual refreshment. 

Joshua has recorded what terrible slaughter has been made 
by those missive weapons of the Almighty. Josh. x. 11. Mo- 
dern historians relate, that when Edward "III. invaded France, 
a shower of hailstones descended, of such a prodigious size, 
that six thousand horses, and one thousand nen, were struck 
dead instantaneously. But the most dreadful description of 
this great ordnance of the heavens is given us in Rev. xvi. 24. 
There fell upon men a great hail out of heaven, everv stone 
about the weight of a talent. 



166 A DESCANT 

Thou grand ethereal bow, whose beauties flush the 
firmament, and charm every spectator: he who paints 
thee on the fluid skirts of the sky, who decks thee 
with all the pride of colours, and bends thee into that 
graceful and majestic figure; at whose command 
thy vivid streaks sweetly rise, or swiftly fade: he, 
through all his life, was arrayed in the humble garb 
of poverty, and at his exit wore the gorgeous gar- 
ment of contempt; insomuch that even his own fa- 
miliar friends, ashamed or afraid to own him, • hid 
as it were their faces from him ;'* to teach us a be- 
coming disdain for the unsubstantial and transitory 
glitter of all worldly vanities ; to introduce us, in 
robes brighter than the tinges of thy resplendent 
arch, even in the robes of his own immaculate righ- 
teousness, to introduce us before that august and 
venerable throne, which the peaceful rainbow sur- 
rounds, surrounds as a pledge of inviolable fidelity 
and infinite mercy. 

Ye storms and tempests, which vex the continent, 
and toss the seas ; which dash navies on the rocks, 
and drive forests from their roots: he, whose breath 
rouses you into such resistless fury, and whose nod 
controls you in your wildest career; he, who holds 
the rapid and raging hurricane in straitened reins, 
and walks, dreadfully serene, on the very wings of 
the wind : he went, all meek and gentle, like a lamb 
to the slaughter for us : and as a sheep before her 
shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth. Thus 
are we instructed to bear, with decent magnanimity, 
the various assaults of adversity; and to pass, with 
a becoming tranquillity of temper, through all the 
rude blasts of injurious treatment Thus are we 
* Isai. liii. 3 



UPON CREATION 167 

delivered from the unutterably fiercer storms of in- 
censed and inexorable justice, from the ' fire, the 
brimstone, and the horrible tempest, which will be 
the final portion of the ungodly.' 

Thou pestilence, that scatterest ten thousand poi- 
sons from thy baleful wings, tainting the air, and 
infecting the nations ; under whose malignant influ- 
ence, joy is blasted, and nature sickens ; mighty re- 
gions are depopulated, and once crowded cities are 
left without inhabitants : he, who arms thee with 
inevitable destruction, and bids thee march before 
his angry countenance;* to spread desolation among 
the tents of the wicked, and be the forerunner of far 
more fearful indignation : he, in his holy humanity, 
was arraigned as a criminal; and, though innocence 
itself, yea, the very pattern of perfection, was con- 
demned to die like the most execrable miscreant. 
As a nuisance to society and the very bane of the 
public happiness, he was hurried away to execution, 
and hammered to the gibbet ; that by his blood, he 
might prepare a sovereign medicine, to cure us of a 
more fatal distemper than the pestilence which walk- 
eth in darkness, or the sickness which destroyeth at 
noonday; that he might himself say to our last 
enemy ; ' O death, I will be thy plague ; O grave, I 
will be thy destruction.'! 

Heat, whose burning influence parches the Libyan 
wilds, tans into soot the Ethiopian's complexion, and 
makes every species of life pant, and droop, and 
languish : Cold, whose icy breath glazes yearly the 
Russian seas, often glues the frozen sailor to the 
cordage, and stiffens the traveller into a statue of 



168 A DESCANT 

rigid flesh : he, who sometimes blends you both, and 
produces the most agreeable temperature; some- 
times suffers you to act separately, and rage with 
intolerable severity : that King of Heaveu, and Con- 
troller of universal Nature, when dwelling in a taber- 
nacle of clay, was exposed to chilling damps, and 
smitten by sultry beams. The stars, in their mid- 
night watches, heard him pray ; and the sun, in his 
meridian fervours, saw him toil. Hence are our 
frozen hearts dissolved into a mingled flow of won- 
der, love, and joy ; being conscious of a deliverance 
from those insufferable flames, which kindled by 
divine indignation, burn to the lowest hell. 

Thou ocean, vast world of waters ! he, who sunk 
that capacious bed for thy reception, and poured the 
liquid element into unfathomable channels; before 
whom all thy foaming billows and floating moun- 
tains are as the small drop of a bucket ; who, by the 
least intimation of his will, swells thy fluid kingdoms, 
in wild confusion, to mingle with the clouds; or re- 
duces them in calm composure to slumber on the 
shores : he, who once gave thee a warrant to over- 
whelm the whole earth, and bury all its degenerate 
inhabitants in a watery grave ; but has now laid an 
everlasting embargo on thy boisterous waves, and 
bound thee, all fierce and maddening as thou art, in 
chains stronger than adamant, yet formed of despica- 
ble sand : — all the waves of vengeance and wrath, of 
tribulation and anguish, passed over his crucified 
body, and his agonizing soul ; that we might emerge 
from those depths of misery, from that abyss of guilt, 
into which we were plunged by Adam's fall, and 
more irretrievably sunk by our own transgressions; 
that, at the last, we might be restored to that happy 



UPON CREATION. 169 

world, which is represented, in the vision of God, as 
haviDg • no sea;'* to denote its perpetual stability 
and undisturbed serenity. 

Ye mountains, that overlook the clouds, and pro- 
ject a shade into distant provinces ; everlasting pyra- 
mids of nature, not to be shaken by conflicting ele- 
ments, not to be shattered by the bolts of thunder, 
nor impaired even by the ravages of time ; he who 
bid your ridges rise so high, and your foundations 
stand so fast; he, in whose scale you are lighter 
than dust; in whose eye you are less than nothing: 
he sunk beneath a load of woes ; woes insupportable, 
but not his own ; when he took our iniquities upon 
himself, and heaved the more than mountainous 
burden from a guilty world. 

Ye verdant woods, that crown our hills, and are 
crowned yourselves with leafy honours : ye humble 
shrubs, adorned in spring with opening blossoms, 
and fanned in summer by gentle gales ; ye, that in 
distant climes, or in cultivated gardens, breathe out 
spicy odours, and embalm the air with delightful 
perfumes; your all-glorious and ever-blessed Crea- 
tor's head was incircled with the thorny wreath ; his 
face was denied with contumelious spitting, and his 
body bathed in a bloody sweat ; that he might wear 
the crown, the crown of glory which fadeth not 
away ; and live for evermore, surrounded with de- 
lights, as much surpassing yours, as yours exceed the 
rugged desolations of winter. 

Thou mantling vine ; he who hangs on thy slender 
shoots, the rich, transparent, weighty cluster ; who, 
under thy unornamented foliage, and amidst the 
pores of thy otherwise worthless bough, prepares the 



170 A DESCANT 

liquor — the refined and exalted liquor, which cheers 
the nations, and fills the cup of joy : Trees, whose 
branches are elevated and waving in air, or diffused 
in easy confinement along a sunny wall : he, who 
bends you with a lovely burden of delicious fruits, 
whose genial warmth beautifies their rind, and mel- 
lows their taste; he, when voluntarily subject to our 
wants, instead of being refreshed with your generous 
juices, or regaled with your luscious pulp ; had a 
loathsome potion of vinegar, mingled with gall, ad- 
dressed to his lips; that we might sit under the 
shadow of his merits with great tranquillity and the 
utmost complacency ; that, ere long, being admitted 
into the Paradise of God, we might eat of the Tree of 
Life,* and drink new wine with him in his Father's 
kingdom. 

Ye luxuriant meadows ; he who, without the seeds- 
man's industry, replenishes your irriguous lap with 
never-failing crops of herbage, and enamels their 
cheerful green with flowers of every hue : Ye fertile 
fields; he who blesses the labours of the husband- 
man, enriches your well-tilled plains with waving 
harvests, and calls forth the staff of life from your 
furrow ; he, who causes both meadows and fields to 
laugh and sing for the abundance of plenty ; he was 
no stranger to corroding hunger, and parching thirst; 
he, alas ! ate the bitter bread of woe, and had ' plen- 
teousness of tears to drink,' that we might partake 
of richer dainties than those which are produced by 
the dew of heaven, and proceed from the fatness of the 
earth; that we might feed on * the hidden manna,' 
and eat the bread which giveth life, eternal life, unto 
the world. 

* Rev. il. 7. 



UPON CREATION. 171 

Ye mines, rich in yellow ore, or bright with veins 
of silver; that distribute your shining treasures as 
far as winds can waft the vessel of commerce ; that 
bestow your alms on monarchs, and have princes for 
your pensioners : Ye beds of gems, toy-shops of na- 
ture ! which form, in dark retirement, the glittering 
stone ; diamonds, that sparkle with a brilliant water ; 
rubies, that glow with a crimson flame; emeralds, 
dipped in the freshest verdure of spring ; sapphires, 
decked with the fairest drapery of the sky ; topaz, 
emblazed with the golden gleam ; amethyst, impur- 
pled with the blushes of the morning : he who tinc- 
tures the metallic dust, and consolidates the lucid 
drop ; he, when sojourning on earth, had no riches 
but the riches of disinterested benevolence ; had no 
ornament, but the ornament of unspotted purity. 
Poor he was in his circumstances, and mean in all 
his accommodations ; that we might be rich in grace, 
and ' obtain salvation with eternal glory :' that we 
might inhabit the new Jerusalem, that splendid city, 
whose streets are paved with gold; whose gates are 
formed of pearl ; and the walls garnished with all 
manner of precious stones.* 

Ye gushing fountains, that trickle potable silver 
through the matted grass : Ye fine transparent streams, 
that glide in crystal waves along your fringed banks : 
Ye deep and stately rivers, that wind and wander in 
your course, to spread your favours wide ; that glad- 
den kingdoms in your progress, and augment the sea 
with your tribute : he who supplies all your currents 
from his own ever-flowing and inexhaustible libera- 
lity ; he, when his nerves were racked with exquisite 
pain, and his blood inflamed by a raging fever, cried, 
* Rev. xxi. 19—21. 



172 A DESCANT 

I thirst, and was denied (unparalleled hardship !) in 
this great extremity, was denied the poor refreshment 
of a single drop of water; that we, having all-suf- 
ficiency in all things, might abound to every good 
work; might be filled with the fullness of his spi- 
ritual blessings here, and hereafter be satisfied with 
the fulness of joy which is at God's right hand for 
evermore. 

Ye birds, cheerful tenants of the bough, gaily 
dressed in glossy plumage; who wake the morn, and 
solace the groves with your artless lays: inimitable 
architects ! who, without rule or line, build your 
pensile structures with all the nicety of proportion ; 
you have each his commodious nest, roofed with 
shades and lined with warmth to protect and cherish 
the callow brood; but he, who tuned your throats to 
harmony, and taught you that curious skill ; he was 
a man of sorrows, and had not where to lay his head; 
had not where to lay his head, till he felt the pangs 
of dissolution, and was laid in the silent grave; that 
we, dwelling under the wings of omnipotence, and 
resting in the bosom of infinite love, might spend an 
harmonious eternity in « singing the song of Moses 
and of the Lamb.' 

Bees, industrious workmen ! that sweep, with busy 
wing, the flowery garden ; and search the blooming 
heath ; and sip the mellifluous dews : strangers to 
idleness ! that ply, with incessant assiduity, your 
pleasing task, and suffer no opening blossom to pass 
unexplored, no sunny gleam to slip away unimproved: 
most ingenious artificers ! that cling to the fragrant 
buds, drain them of their treasured sweets, and ex- 
tract (if I may so speak) even the odoriferous souls of 
herbs, and plants, and flowers; you, when you have 



UPON CREATION. 173 

completed your work ; have collected, refined, and 
securely lodged the ambrosial stores; when you 
might reasonably expect the peaceful fruition of your 
acquisitions ; you, alas ! are barbarously destroyed, 
and leave your hoarded delicacies to others : leave 
them to be enjoyed by your very murderers. I 
cannot but pity your hard destiny ! How then should 
my bowels melt with sympathy, and my eyes flow 
with tears,* when I remember, that thus, thus it 
fared with your and our Incarnate Maker ! After a 
life of the most exemplary and exalted piety ; a life, 
filled with offices of beneficence and labours of love; 
he was, by wicked hands, crucified and slain. He 
left the honey of his toil, the balm of his blood, and 
the riches of his obedience, to be shared among others ; 
to be shared even among those, who too often crucify 
him afresh, and put him to open shame. 

Shall I mention the animal, which spins her soft, 
her shining, her exquisitely fine silken thread; whose 
matchless manufactures lend an ornament to gran- 
deur, and make royalty itself more magnificent ? 
Shall I take notice of the cell, in which, when the 
gaiety and business of life are over, the little recluse 
immures herself and spends the remainder of her days 
in retirement ? Shall I rather observe the sepulchre, 
which, when cloyed with pleasure and weary of the 
world, she prepares for her own interment ? Or how, 
when a stated period is elapsed, she wakes from a 
deathlike inactivity, breaks the inclosure of her tomb, 
throws off the dusky shroud, assumes a new form, 
puts on a more sumptuous array, and, from an Insect 

* Canst thou, ungrateful man, his torments see, 
Nor drop a tear for him, who pour'd his blood for thee I 
Pill's Poems. 
16* 



174 A DESCANT 

creeping on the ground, becomes a winged inhabitant 
of the atr? No: this is a poor reptile; and therefore 
unworthy to serve as an illustration, when any cha- 
racter of the Son of God comes under consideration. 
But let me correct myself. Was not Christ (to use 
the language of his own blessed Spirit) a worm, and 
no man?* in appearance such, and treated as such? 
Did he not also bequeath the fine linen of his most 
perfect righteousness to compose the marriage-gar- 
ment for our disarrayed and defiled souls ? Did he 
not, before his flesh saw corruption, emerge trium- 
phant from the grave; and not only mount the lower 
firmament, but ascend the heaven of heavens, take 
possession of those sublime abodes, in our name, and 
as our forerunner ? 

Ye cattle, that rest in your inclosed pastures ; ye 
beasts, that range the unlimited forest ; ye fish, that 
rove through trackless paths of the sea ; sheep, clad 
in garments, which, when left by you, are worn by 
kings ; kine, who feed on verdure, which, transmuted 
in your bodies, and strained from your udders, fur- 
nishes a repast for queens ; lions, roaring after your 
prey; leviathan, taking your pastime in the great 
deep ; with all that wing the firmament, or tread the 
soil, or swim the wave : He who spreads his ever- 
hospitable board, who admits you all to be his con- 
tinual guests, and suffers you to want no manner of 
thing that is good ; he was destitute, afflicted, tor- 
mented ; he endured all that was miserable and re- 
proachful, in order to exalt a degenerate race, who 
had debased themselves to a level with the beasts 
that perish, unto seats of distinguished and immortal 
honour, in order to introduce the slaves of sin and 
* Psalm xxii. 6. 



UPON CREATION. * 175 

heirs of hell into mansions of consummate and ever- 
lasting bliss. 

Surely the contemplation of such a subject, and the 
distant anticipation of such a hope, may almost turn 
earth into heaven, and make even inanimate nature 
vocal with praise. Let it then break forth from every 
creature. Let the meanest feel the inspiring impulse; 
let the greatest acknowledge themselves unable, 
worthily to express the stupendous goodness. 

Praise him, ye insects that crawl on the ground ; 
who, though high above all height, humbled himself 
to dwell in dust. Birds of the air, waft on your wings, 
and warble in your notes, his praise, who, though 
Lord of the celestial abodes, while sojourning on 
earth, wanted a shelter commodious as your nests. 
Ye rougher world of brutes, join with the gentle song- 
sters of the shade, and howl to him your hoarse ap- 
plause, who breaks the jaw-bones of the infernal lion, 
who softens into mildness the savage disposition, and 
bids the wolf lie down, in amicable agreement, with 
the lamb. Bleat out, ye hills ; let broader lows be 
responsive from the vales ; ye forests catch, and ye 
rocks retain, the inarticulate hymn ; because Messiah 
the Prince feeds his flock like a shepherd ; he gathereth 
the lambs with his arm ; he carries them in his bosom, 
and gently leads those that are with young.* Wave, 
ye stately cedars, in sign of worship, wave your 
branching heads to him, who meekly bowed his own 
on the accursed tree. Pleasing prospects, scenes o 
beauty, where nicest art conspires with lavish nature 
to form a paradise below, lay forth all your charms, 
and in all your charms confess yourselves a mere 
blank, compared with his amiableness, who is 'fairest 
* Isaiah xl. 11. 



176 A DESCANT 

among ten thousand, and altogether lovely.' Diop 
down, ye showers ; and testify, as you fall ; testify of 
his grace, which descends more copiously than the 
rain, distills more sweetly than the dew. Let sighing 
gales breathe, and murmuring rivulets flow ; breathe 
and flow in harmonious consonance to him, whose 
Spirit is far more reviving than the cooling breeze, 
who is himself the Fountain of living Waters. 

Ye lightnings, blaze to his honour; ye thunders, 
sound his praise; while reverberating clouds return 
the roar, and bellowing oceans propagate the tremen- 
dous anthem. Mutest of creatures, add your silent 
oratory, and display the triumphs of his meekness; 
who, though he maketh the clouds his chariot, and 
treadeth upon the waves of the sea ; though the 
thunder is his voice, and the lightning his sword of 
justice ; yet, amidst the most abusive and cruel in- 
juries, was submissive and lifted not his hand, was 
• dumb and opened not his mouth.' Great source of 
day, address thy radiant homage to a far sublimer 
sun. Write, in all thy ample round, with every lucid 
beam, O ! write a testimony to him, who is the 
brightness of his Father's glory, who is the Sun of 
righteousness to a sinful world; and is risen, never 
to go down; is risen, to be our everlasting light. 
Shine clear, ye skies ; look gay, thou earth ; let the 
floods clap their hands, and let every creature wear 
a smile : for he cometh, the Creator himself cometh, 
to be manifested in the flesh; and with him comes 
pardon, peace, and joy ; every virtue and all felicity 
comes in his train. Angels and archangels, let your 
songs be of Jesus, and teach the very heavens to echo 
with his adored and majestic name. Ye beheld him, 
with greater transports of admiration, when you at- 



UPON CREATION. 177 

tended his agony in the garden, and saw him pros- 
trate on the ground ; than when you beheld universal 
nature rising at his call, and saw the wonders of his 
creating might. Tune to loftiest notes your golden 
harps, and waken raptures, unknown before even in 
heavenly breasts; while all that has breath swells the 
concert of harmony ; and all that has being unites in 
the tribute of praise. 

Chiefly, let man exalt his voice ; let man, with 
distinguished hosannas, hail the Redeemer. For man, 
he was stretched on the racking cross ; for man, he 
was consigned to the gloomy sepulchre ; for man, he 
procured grace unmeasurable, and bliss inconceivable. 
However different, therefore, in your age, or more 
different in your circumstances, be unanimous, O 
men, in magnifying a Saviour, who is no respecter of 
persons; who gave himself a ransom for all. Bend, ye 
kings, frcm your thrones of ivory and gold ; in your 
robes of imperial purple, fall prostrate at his feet; 
who forsook a nobler throne, and laid aside more 
illustrious ensigns of majesty, that you might reign 
with God for ever and ever. Children of poverty, 
meanest of mortals (if any can be called poor, who 
are thus enriched ; if any can be accounted mean, 
who are thus ennobled;) rejoice, greatly rejoice, in 
God your Saviour, who chose to be indigent, was 
willing to be contemned; that you might be entitled 
to the treasures, and be numbered with the princes 
of heaven. Sons of affliction, though harassed with 
pain, and inured to anguish, O ! change your groans 
into songs of gratitude; let no complaining voice, no 
jarring string be heard in the universal symphony ; 
but glorify the Lamb even in the fires,* who himself 
* Isai. xxiv. 15. 



178 A DESCANT 

bore greater torment than you feel, and has promised 
you a share in the joy which he inherits • who has 
made your sufferings short, and will make your rest 
eternal. Men of hoary locks, bending beneath a 
weight of years, and tottering on the brink of the 
grave ; let Christ be your support under all infirmi- 
ties; lean upon Christ, as the rock of your salvation. 
Let his name, his prec'ous name, form the last ac- 
cents which quiver on your pale expiring lips. And 
let this be the first that lisps on your tongues, ye 
tender infants: remember your Redeemer in your 
earliest moments; devote the choicest of your hours 
to the learning of his will, and the chief of your 
strength to the glorifying of 'his name; who, in the 
perfection of health, and the very prime of manhood, 
was content to become a motionless and ghastly 
corpse ; that you might be girt with the vigour, and 
clothed with the bloom of eternal youth. 

Ye spirits of just men made perfect, who are re- 
leased from the burden of the flesh, and freed from 
all the vexatious solicitations of corruption in your- 
selves, delivered from all the injurious effects of 
iniquity in others ; who sojourn no longer in the tents 
of strife, or the territories of disorder; but are re- 
ceived into that pure, harmonious, holy society, 
where every one acts up to his amiable and exalted 
character; where God himself is pleased graciously 
and immediately to preside: you find, not without 
pleasing astonishment, your hopes improved into ac- 
tual enjoyment, and your faith superseded by the 
beatific vision. You feel all your former shyness of 
behaviour happily lost in the overflowings of un- 
bounded love; and all your little differences of opi- 
nion entirely borne down by tides of invariable truth. 



UPON CREATION. 179 

Bless, therefore, with all your enlarged powers, bless 
his infinitely larger goodness; who, when he had 
overcome the sharpness of death, opened the gates of 
paradise, opened the kingdom of heaven to all gene- 
rations, and to every denomination of the faithful. 

Ye men of holy conversation and humble tempers, 
think of him who loved you, and washed you from 
your sins in his own blood ; think of him on your 
silent couch, talk of him in every social interview; 
glory in his excellencies, make your boast of his 
obedience, and add, still continue to add, the incense 
of a dutiful life, to all the oblations of a grateful 
tongue. Weakest of believers, who go mourning 
under a sense of guilt, and conflicting with the cease- 
less assaults of temptation ; put off your sackcloth, 
and be girded with gladness; because Jesus is as 
merciful to hear, as he is mighty to help ; because he 
is touched with the tenderest sympathizing concern 
for all your distresses; and he lives, ever lives, to 
be your advocate with the Father. Why then should 
uneasy doubts sadden your countenances? Why 
should desponding fears oppress your souls ? Turn, 
turn those disconsolate sighs into cheerful hymns, 
since you have his powerful intercession, and his in- 
estimable merits, to be your anchor in all tribula- 
tions, to be your passport into eternal blessedness. 

Most of all, ye ministers of the sanctuary ; heralds 
commissioned from above; lift, every one, his voice 
like a trumpet, and loudly proclaim the Redeemer : 
get ye up, ye ambassadors of peace, get ye up into 
the high mountains, and spread far and wide the ho- 
nours of the Lamb, ' that was slain, but is alive for 
evermore.' Teach every sacred roof to resound with 
his fame and every human heart to glow with his 



ISO A DESCANT UPON CREATION, 
love. Declare, as far as the force of words will ^ j, 
declare the inexhaustible fulness of that great atone- 
ment, whose merits are commensurate with the glo- 
ries of the Divinity. Tell the sinful wretch what 
pity yearns in Immanuel's bowels ; what blood he 
has spilt, what agonies he has endured, what wonders 
he has wrought for the salvation of his enemies. 
Invite the indigent to become rich; entreat the guilty 
to accept of pardon ; because with the crucified Jesus 
is plenteous redemption, and all-sufficiency to save. 
While you, placed in conspicuous stations, pour the 
joyful sound; may I, as I steal through the vale, of 
humble life, catch the pleasing accents ! For me, the 
author of all blessings became a curse : for me, his 
bones were dislocated, and his flesh was torn : he 
hung with streaming veins, and an agonizing soul, 
on the cross for me. O ! may I, in my little sphere, 
and amidst the scanty circle of my acquaintance, at 
least whisper these glad transporting things ; whisper 
them from my own heart, that they may surely reach, 
and sweetly penetrate theirs. 

But, when men and angels raise the grand hymn ; 
when all worlds, and all beings, add their collective 
acclamations, this full, fervent, and universal chorus 
will be so inferior to the riches of the Redeemer's 
grace, so disproportionate to the magnificence of his 
glory, that it will seem but to debase the unutterable 
subject it attemps to exalt. The loud hallelujah will 
die away in the solemn mental eloquence of prostrate, 
rapturous, silent adoration. 

O goodness infinite! goodness immense I 

AikI iove that passeth knowledge ! Words are vain ; 

Language is lost in wonders so divine. 

' Come then, expressive silence, muse his praise.' 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



THE NIGHT. 



Night is fair virtue's immemorial friend: 
The conscious moon, through, er'ry distant age. 
Has held a lamp to wisdom. 

Night Thoughts, N. V. 



TO 
PAUL ORCHARD, ESQ. 

Of Stoke- Abbey, in Devonshire. 



DEAR BIB, 

As your honoured father was pleased to make choice 
of me to answer in your name at the font, and to ex- 
ercise a sort of guardianship over your spiritual in- 
terests; permit me, by putting these little treatises 
into your hand, to fulfil some part of that solemn ob- 
ligation. 

Gratitude for many signal favours, and a conscien- 
tious regard to my sacred engagement, have long ago 
inspired my breast with the warmest wishes, both 
for your true dignity and real happiness. Nor can 
I think of a more endearing or a more effectual way 
of advancing either the one or the other, than to set 
before you a sketch of your excellent father's cha- 
racter. Illustrious examples are the most winning 
incitements to virtue ; and none can come attended 
with such particular recommendations to you, Sir, 
as the pattern of that worthy person, from whom you 
derive your very being. 

A most cordial and reverential esteem for the 
Divine Word, was one of his remarkable qualities. 
Those oracles of Heaven were his principal delight 



184 DEDICATION, 

and his inseparable companions. Your gardens, your 
solitary walks, and the hedges of your fields can wit- 
ness with what an unwearied assiduity he exercised 
himself in the law of the Lord.** From hence he 
fetched his maxims of wisdom, and formed his judg- 
ment of things. The sacred precepts were the model 
of his temper and the guide of his life, while the pre- 
cious promises were the joy of his heart and his por- 
tion for ever. 

Improving company was another of his most re- 
lishing pleasures. Few gentlemen were better fur- 
nished either with richness of fancy, or copiousness 
of expression, to bear a shining part in conversation. 
With these talents he always endeavoured to give 
some useful, generally some religious turn to the dis- 
course. Nor did he ever reflect with greater com- 
placency on his social hours, than when they tended 
to glorify the Eternal Majesty, and to awaken in him- 
self and others, a more lively spirit of devotion. 

To project for the good of others was his frequent 
itudy, and to carry those benevolent contrivances 
into execution his favourite employ. When visited 
by the young persons of the neighbourhood, far from 
taking an ungraceful pride to initiate them in de- 
bauchery, or confirm them in a riotous habit, it was 
his incessant aim, by finely-adapted persuasives, to 
encourage them in industry, and establish them in a 
course of sobriety ; to guard them against the allure- 
ments of vice, and animate them with the principles 
of piety ; a noble kind of hospitality this, which will 
probably transmit its beneficial influence to their 
earthly possessions, to their future families, and even 
to their everlasting state. 

* Josh. xxiv. 27. 



DEDICATION. 185 

A conviction of human indigence, and a thorough 
persuasion of the divine all-sufficiency, induced him 
to be frequent in prayer. To prostrate himself in 
profound adoration, before that infinitely exalted 
Being who dwells in light inaccessible, was his glory; 
to implore the continuance of the Almighty favour, 
and the increase of all Christian graces, was his gain. 
In those moments, no doubt, he remembered you, 
Sir, with a particular earnestness, and lodged many 
an ardent petition in the court of Heaven for his in- 
fant son. Cease not to second them with your own 
devout supplications, that they may descend upon 
your head * in the fulness of the blessings of the gos- 
pel of peace.' 

To give their genuine lustre to all his other endow- 
ments, he was careful to maintain an humble mind. 
Though his friends might admire his superior abili- 
ties, or his acquaintance applaud his exemplary be- 
haviour, he saw how far he fell short of the mark of 
his high calling; saw, and lamented his defects; 
saw, and renounced himself; relying, for final ac- 
ceptance and endless felicity, on a better righteous- 
ness than his own, even on the transcendently perfect 
righteousness, and inconceivably precious death of 
Jesus the Redeemer. This was the rock of his hope, 
and the very crown of his rejoicing. 

These, Sir, are some of the distinguishing charac- 
teristics of ycur deceased parent. As you had the 
misfortune to lose so valuable a relative before you 
was capable of forming any acquaintance with his 
person, I flatter myself you will the more attentively 
observe his picture; this his moral picture, designed, 
not to be set in gold, or sparkle in enamel, but to 
breathe in your spirit, and to live in all your con- 
17* 



186 DEDICATION, 

duct ; which, though it be entirely your own, calcu- 
lated purely for yourself, may possibly (like family 
pieces in your parlour, that glance an eye upon as 
many as enter the room), make some pleasing and 
useful impression on every beholder. May every one, 
charmed with the beautiful image, catch its resem- 
blance ; and each in his respective sphere « go and do 
likewise.' 

But you, Sir, are peculiarly concerned to copy the 
amiable original. As the order of an indulgent Pro- 
vidence has made you heir of the affluent circum- 
stances, let not a gay and thoughtless inadvertence 
cut you off from the richer inheritance of these noble 
qualifications. These will be your security amidst 
all the glittering dangers, which are inseparable from 
blooming years, and an elevated situation in life: 
these are your path, your sure and only path to true 
greatness and solid happiness. Tread in these steps, 
and you cannot fail to be the darling of your friends, 
and the favourite of Heaven: tread in these steps, 
and you will give inexpressible joy to one of the best, 
of mothers ; you will become an extensive blessing 
to your fellow-creatures ; and which, after such most 
engaging motives, is scarce worthy to be mentioned, 
you will be the delight, the honour, and the boast of, 
Dear Sir, 
Your very affectionate godfather, 
And most faithful humble servant, 

Jamss Hebvbv. 



PREFACE. 



We have already exercised our speculations on the 
Tombs and Flowers, surveying nature covered with 
the deepest horrors, and arrayed in the richest beau- 
ties. Allegory taught many of the objects to speak 
the language of virtue ; while imagination lent her 
colouring, to give the lessons an engaging air ; and 
this with a view of imitating that divine Instructor, 
who commissioned the lily,* in her silver suit, to 
remonstrate in the ear of unbelieving reason ; who 
sent his disciples (men ordained to teach the universe) 
to learn maxims of the last importance from the most 
insignificant birds* that wander through the paths of 
the air, from the very meanest herbs* that are scat- 
tered over the face of the ground. 

Emboldened by the kind of acceptance of the pre- 
ceding sketches, I beg leave to confide in the same 
benevolence of taste for the protection and support 
of the two remaining Essays, which exhibit a prospect 
of still life and grand operation ; which moralize on 
the most composed and most magnificent appearances 
of things ; in which fancy is again suffered to intro- 
duce her imagery, but only as the hand-maid of truth ; 
in order to dress her person and display her charms, 
* Matt. vi. 26. 28—30 



188 PREFACE, 

to engage the attention and win the love even of the 
gay and of the fashionable; which is more likely to 
be effected by forming agreeable pictures of nature, 
and deriving instructive observations, than by the 
laborious method of long-deduced arguments or close- 
connected reasonings. The contemplations of the 
heavens and the earth, of their admirable properties 
and beneficial changes, has always afforded the most 
exalted gratification to the human mind. In com- 
pliance with this prevailing taste, I have drawn my 
serious admonitions from the stupendous theatre and 
variegated scenery of the universe ; that the reader 
may learn his duty from his very pleasures, may 
gather wisdom, mingled with virtue, from the most 
refined entertainments and noblest delights. 

The evening, drawing her sables over the world, 
and gently darkening into night, is a season pecu- 
liarly proper for sedate consideration. All circum- 
stances concur to hush our passions, and soothe our 
cares ; to tempt our steps abroad, and prompt our 
thoughts to serious reflection. 

Then is the time 

For those, whom wisdom and whom nature charm, 
To steal themselves from the degenerate crowd, 
And soar above this little scene of things ; 
To trertd low-thouphted vice beneath their feet; 
To soothe the throbbing passirnis into peace; 
And woo lone quiet in her silent walks.* 

The favour I would solicit for the first of the fol- 
lowing compositions, is, that it may be permitted to 
attend in such retired and contemplative excursions ; 
to attend, if not under the character of a friend, at 
least in the humble capacity of a servant or page — as 
a servant, to open the door of meditation and remove 

* Thomson's Autumn, I. 973. 



PREFACE. 1S9 

every impediment to those best exercises of the mind, 
which blend advantage with amusement, and improve 
while they delight ; as a page, to gather up the un- 
stable, fluctuating train of fancy, and collect her 
fickle powers into a consistent, regular, and useful 
habit of thinking. 

The other, conversant among the starry regions, 
•would lead the imagination through those beautiful 
tracts of unclouded azure, and point out to the judg- 
ment some of those astonishing particulars which so 
eminently signalize the celestial worlds : a prospect 
this, to which curiosity attracts our eyes, and to 
which Scripture itself often directs our study; a 
prospect beyond all others most excellently calculated 
to enlarge the soul, and ennoble its conceptions ; to 
give the grandest apprehensions of the everlasting 
God, and create sentiments of becoming superiority 
with relation to all transitory interest; in a word, to 
furnish faith with the surest foundation for a steady 
affiance and true magnanimity of spirit, to afford 
piety the strongest motives, both for a lively grati- 
tude and profound veneration. 

While Galileo lifts his tube and discovers the prodi- 
gious magnitude of those radiant orbs; while Newton 
measures their amazing distances, and unites the 
whole system in harmonious order, by the subtle in- 
fluences of attraction ; I would only, like the herald 
before that illustrious Hebrew,* proclaim at every 
turn, • Bow the knee, and adore the Almighty Maker ; 
magnify his eternal name, and make his praise, like 
all his works, to be glorious.' 

* Gen. xli. 43. 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



THE NIGHT. 



The business of the day dispatched, and the sultry 
heats abated, invited me to the recreation of a walk; 
a walk in one of the finest recesses of the country, 
and in one of the most pleasant evenings which the 
summer-season produced. 

The limes and elms, uniting their branches over 
my head, formed a verdant canopy, and cast a most 
refreshing shade. Under my feet lay a carpet of 
nature's velvet, grass intermingled with moss and 
embroidered with flowers. Jessamines, in conjunction 
with woodbines, twined around the trees, displaying 
their artless beauties to the eye, and diffusing their 
delicious sweets through the air. On either side, the 
boughs, rounded into a set of regular arches, opened 
a view into the distant fields, and presented me with 
a prospect of the bending skies. The little birds, all 
joyous and grateful for the favours of the light, were 
paying their acknowledgments in a tribute of har- 
mony, and soothing themselves to rest with songs ; 
while a French-horn, from a neighbouring seat, sent 
its melodious accents, softened by the length of their 
passage, to complete the concert of the grove. 
Roving in this agreeable manner, my thoughts 



192 CONTEMPLATIONS 

were exercised on a subject still more agreeable than 
the season or the scene : I mean our late signal vic- 
tory over the united forces of intestine treason and 
foreign invasion; a victory which pours joy through 
the present age, and will transmit its influence tc 
generations yet unborn. — Are not all the blessings, 
which can endear society, or render life itself de- 
sirable, centered in our present happy constitution 
and auspicious government ? Were they not all struck 
at, by that impious and horrid blow, meditated at 
Rome, levelled by France, and seconded by factious 
spirits at home ? Who then can be sufficiently thank- 
ful for the gracious interposition of Providence, which 
has not only averted the impending ruin, but turned 
it, with aggravated confusion, on the authors of our 
troubles ? 

Methinks, every thing valuable which I possess, 
every thing charming whu;h I behold, conspire to 
enhance this ever-memorable event. To this it is 
owing that I can ramble unmolested along the vale of 
private life, and taste all the innocent satisfactions of 
a contemplative retirement. Had rebellion succeeded 
in her detestable designs, instead of walking with 
security and complacence in these flowery paths, I 
might have met the assassin with his dagger, or have 
been obliged to abandon my habitation, and 'em- 
brace the rock for a shelter.' Farewell, then, ye fra- 
grant shades, seats of meditation and calm repose! 
I should have been driven from your loved retreats, 
to make way for some barbarous, some insulting 
victor. Farewell, then, ye pleasing toils, and whole- 
some amusements of my rural hours ; I should no 
more have reared the tender flower to the sun ; no 
more have taught the espalier to expand her boughs ; 



ON THE NIGHT. 193 

nor have fetched any longer from my kitchen-garden 
the purest supplies of health. 

Had rebellion succeeded in her detestable designs, 
instead of being regaled with the music of the woods, 
I might have been alarmed with the sound of the 
trumpet and all the thunder of war ; instead of being 
entertained with this beautiful landscape, I might 
have beheld our houses ransacked, and our villages 
plundered ; I might have beheld our fenced cities 
encompassed with armies, and our fruitful fields 
'clothed with desolation;' or have been shocked 
with the more frightful images of ' garments rolled 
in blood,' and of a ruffian's blade reeking from a 
brother's heart : instead of peace, with her cheering 
olives, sheltering our abodes ; instead of justice, with 
her impartial scale, securing our goods ; persecution 
had brandished her sword, and slavery clanked her 
chains. 

Nor are these miseries imaginary only, or the 
creatures of a groundless panic. There are, in a 
neighbouring kingdom, who very lately experienced 
them in all their rigour. And if the malignant spirit 
of popery had forced itself into our church ; if an 
abjured pretender had cut his way to our throne ; we 
could have no reason to expect a mitigation of their 
severity on our behalf. But supposing the tender 
mercies of a bigoted usurper to have been somewhat 
less cruel, where, alas ! would have been the encou- 
ragement to cultivate our little portion ; or what 
pleasure could arise from an improved spot, if both 
the one and the other lay every moment at the mercy 
of lawless power ? This embittering circumstance 
would spoil their relish ; and by rendering them a 
precarious, would render them a joyless acquisition. 
18 



194 CONTEMPLATIONS 

In vain might the vine spread her purple clusters, in 
vain be lavish of her generous juices, if tyranny, like 
a ravenous harpy, should be always hovering over 
the bowl, and ready to snatch it from the lip of in- 
dustry, or to wrest it from the hand of liberty- 
Liberty, that dearest of names, and property, that 
best of charters, give an additional, an inexpressible 
charm to every delightful object. See, how the de- 
clining sun has beautified the western clouds, has 
arrayed them in crimson, and skirted them with 
gold ; such a refinement of our domestic bliss is pro- 
perty ; such an improvement of our public privileges 
is liberty. When the lamp of day shall withdraw his 
beams, there will still remain the same collection of 
floating vapours ; but O ! how changed, how gloomy ! 
The carnation-streaks are faded, the golden edgings 
are wore away, and all the lovely tinges are lost in a 
leaden-coloured lowering sadness. Such would be the 
aspect of all these scenes of beauty, and all these 
abodes of pleasure, if exposed continually to the 
caprice of arbitrary sway, or held in a state of abject 
and cringing dependence. 

The sun has almost finished his daily race, and 
hastens to the goal. He descends lower, and lower, 
till his chariot-wheels seem to hover on the utmost 
verge of the sky. What is somewhat remarkable, the 
orb of light upon the point of setting, grows consi- 
derably broader. The shadows of objects, just before 
they become blended in undistinguishable darkness, 
are exceedingly lengthened; like blessings, little 
prized while possessed, but highly esteemed the very 
instant they are preparing for their flight; bitterly 
regretted, when once they are gone, and to be seen no 
more. 



ON THE NIGHT. 195 

The radiant globe is now half-immersed beneath 
the dusky earth ; or, as the ancient poets speak, is 
shooting into the ocean, and sinks in the western sea. 
And could I view the sea at this juncture, it would 
yield a most amusing and curious spectacle. The 
rays striking horizontally on the liquid element, give 
it the appearance of floating glass ; or, reflected in 
many a different direction, form a beautiful multi- 
plicity of colours. A stranger, as he walks along the 
sandy beach, and lost in pensive attention, listens to 
the murmurings of the restless flood, is agreeably 
alarmed by the gay decorations of the surface. With 
entertainment and with wonder, he sees the curling 
waves, here glistering with white, there glowing with 
purple; in one place wearing an azure tincture, in 
another glancing a cast of undulating green, in the 
whole exhibiting a piece of fluid scenery that may 
vie with yonder pencil tapestries, though wrought in 
the loom, and tinged with the dyes of heaven. 

While I am transported by fancy to the shores of 
the ocean, the great luminary is sunk beneath the 
horizon, and totally disappears. The whole face of 
the ground is overspread with shades, or, with what 
one of the finest painters of nature calls, a dun ob- 
scurity. Only a few very superior eminences are 
tipt with streaming silver. The tops of groves and 
lofty towers catch the last smiles of day,* are still 
irradiated by the departing beams: but, O ! how 
transient is the distinction ! how momentary the gift ! 
Like all the blessings which mortals enjoy below, it 
is gone almost as soon as granted. See! how lan- 
guishingly it trembles on the leafy spire, and glim- 
mers with a dying faintness on the mountain's brow. 
* Milt. Par. Lost, b. iv. 598. 



196 CONTEMPLATIONS 

The little vivacity that remains, decays every mo- 
ment. It can no longer hold its station. While I 
speak, it expires, and resigns the world to the gra- 
dual approaches of night. 

Hasii 

Every object, a little while ago, glared with light ; 
but now all appears under a more qualified lustre. 
The animals harmonize with the insensible creation ; 
and what was gay in those, as well as glittering in 
this, gives place to an universal gravity. In the 
meadows all was jocund and sportive ; but now the 
gamesome lambs are grown weary of their frolics, 
and the tired shepherd has imposed silence on his 
pipe. In Uie branches all was sprightliness and 
song; but now the lively green is wrapt in the de- 
scending glooms, and no tuneful airs are heard, only 
the plaintive stock-dove cooing mournfully through 
the grove. Should I now be vain and trifling, the 
heavens and the earth would rebuke my unseasonable 
levity ! Therefore be these moments devoted to 
thoughts sedate as the closing day, solemn as the face 
of things. And, indeed, however my social hours are 
enlivened with innocent pleasantry, let every even- 
ing, in her sable habit, toll the bell to serious consi- 
deration. Nothing can be more proper for a person 
who walks on the borders of eternity, and is hasting 
continually to his final audit ; nothing more proper 
than daily to slip away from the circle of amusements, 
and frequently to relinquish the hurry of business, in 
order to consider and adjust ' the things that belong 
to his peace.' 

Since the sun is departed, from whence can it pro- 



ON THE NIGHT. 197 

eeed, that I am not involved in pitchy darkness! 
Whence these remainders of diminished brightness, 
which, though scarcely forming a refulgence, soften 
and soothe the horrors of night ? I see not the shin- 
ing ruler, yet am cheered with a real, though faint, 
communication of his splendour. Does he remem- 
ber us in his progress through other climes ? Does 
he send a detachment of his rays to escort us during 
his personal absence ; or to cover (if I may use the 
military term) our retreat from the scene of action ? 
Has he bequeathed us a dividend of his beams, suffi- 
cient to render our circumstances easy, and our si- 
tuation agreeable, till sleep pours its soft oppression 
on the organs of sense, till sleep suspends all the ope- 
rations of our hands, and entirely supersedes any far- 
ther occasion for the light ? 

No ; it is ill-judged and unreasonable to ascribe 
this beneficent conduct to thesun. Not unto him, not 
unto him, but unto his Almighty Maker we are obliged 
for this pleasing attendant, this valuable legacy. The 
gracious author of our being has so disposed the col- 
lection of circumambient air, as to make it produc- 
tive of this fine and wonderful effect. The sun- 
beams, falling on the higher parts of the aerial fluid, 
instead of passing on in straight lines, are bent in- 
wards and conducted on our sight. Their natural 
course is over-ruled, and they are bidden to wheel 
about on purpose to favour us with a welcome and 
salutary visit; by which means the blessings of light 
and the season of business are considerable prolonged ; 
and, what is a very endearing circumstance, pro- 
longed most considerably ; when the vehement heats 
of summer incline the student to postpone his walk 
till the temperate evening prevails ; when the impor- 
18* 



IP/8 CONTEMPLATIONS 

taut labours of the harvest call the husbandman 
abroad before the day is fully risen. 

After all the ardours of the sultry day, how reviv- 
ing is this coolness ! This gives new verdure to the 
fading plants, new vivacity to the withering flowers, 
and a more exquisite fragrance to their mingled 
scents : by this, the air also receives a new force, 
and is qualified to exert itself with greater activity 
— qualified to brace our limbs, to heave our lungs, 
and co-operate with a brisker impulse in perpetu- 
ating the circulation of our blood. This I might call 
the grand alembic of nature, which distils her most 
sovereign cordial, the refreshing dews. Incessant 
heat would rob us of their beneficial agency, and 
oblige them to evaporate in imperceptible exhala- 
tions. Turbulent winds, or even the gentler motions 
of Aurora's fan, would dissipate the rising vapours, 
and not suffer them to form a coalition. But, fa- 
voured by the stillness, and condensed by the cool- 
ness of the night, they unite in pearly drops, and 
create that finely-tempered humidity which cheers 
the vegetable world, as sleep exhilarates the animal. 

Not unlike to these are the advantages of solitude. 
The world is a troubled ocean, and who can erect 
stable purposes on its fluctuating waves ? The world 
is a school of wrong ; and who does not feel himself 
warping to its pernicious influences ? On this sea 
of glass,* how insensibly we slide from our own sted- 
fastness ! Some sacred truth, which was struck in 
lively characters on our souls, is obscured, if not 
obliterated; some worthy resolution, which heaven 
had wrought in our breasts, is shaken, if not over- 
thrown ; some enticing vanity which we had solemnly 
* Rev. xv. % 



ON THE NIGHT. 199 

renounced, again practises its wiles, and again cap- 
tivates our affections. How often has an unwary 
glance kindled a fever of irregular desire in our 
hearts ! How often has a word of applause dropt 
luscious poison into our ears ; or some disrespectful 
expression raised a gust of passion in our bosoms ! 
Our innocence is of so tender a constitution that it 
suffers in the promiscuous crowd. Our purity is of 
so delicate a complexion, that it scarce touches on 
the world without contracting a stain. We see, we 
hear, with peril. 

But here safety dwells, every meddling and intru- 
sive avocation is secluded ; silence holds the door 
against the strife of tongues, and all the imperti- 
nences of idle conversation. The busy swarm of 
vain images and cajoling temptations which beset us 
with a buzzing importunity amidst the gaieties of 
life, are chased by these thickening shades. Here I 
may, without disturbance, commune with my own 
heart ; and learn that best of sciences, to know myself. 
Here the soul may rally her dissipated powers, and 
grace recover its native energy. This is the oppor- 
tunity to rectify every evil impression ; to expel the 
poison, and guard against the contagion of corrupt- 
ing examples. This is the place, where I may with 
advantage apply myself to subdue the rebel within ; 
and be master, not of a sceptre, but of myself. Throng 
then, ye ambitious, the levees of the powerful ; I will 
be punctual in my assignations with solitude. To a 
a mind intent upon its own improvement, solitude 
has charms incomparably more engaging than the en- 
tertainments presented in the theatre, or the honours 
conferred in the drawing-room. 

I said solitude. — Am I then alone ? — 'Tis true, my 



200 CONTEMPLATIONS 

acquaintance are at a distance. I have stole away 
from company, and am remote from all human ob- 
servation. But is that an alarming thought ? 
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth, 
Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep.* 
Perhaps, there may be numbers of those invisible 
beings patrolling this same retreat, and joining with 
me in contemplating the Creator's works ; perhaps 
those ministering spirits, who rejoice at the conver- 
sion of a sinner, and hold up the goings of the righ- 
teous, may follow us to the lonely recess ; and even 
in our most solitary moments be our constant attend- 
ants. What a pleasing awe is awakened by such a 
reflection ! How venerable it renders my retired walks ! 
I am struck with reverence, as under the roof of some 
sacred edifice, or in the presence-chamber of some 
mighty monarch. O ! may I never bring any pride 
of imagination, nor indulge the least dissolute affec- 
tion, where such refined and exalted intelligences 
exercise their watch ! 

'Tis possible, that I am encompassed with such a 
cloud of witnesses; but it is certain that God, the 
infinite eternal God, is now and ever with me. The 
great Jehovah, before whom all the angelic armies 
bow their heads, and veil their faces, surrounds me, 
supports me, pervades me. ' In him I lire, move, 
and have my being.' The whole world is his august 
temple; and, in the most sequestered corner, I appear 
before his adorable Majesty, no less than when I 
worship in his house, or kneel at his altar. In every 
place, therefore, let me pay him the homage of a 
heart cleansed from idols, and devoted to his service. 
In every circumstance let me feel no ambition, but 

* MilL Par. Lost, b. iv. 677. 



ON THE NIGHT. 201 

to please him : nor covet any happiness, hut to enjoy 
him. 

How sublime is the description, and how striking 
the sentiment, in that noble passage of the Psalms ! 
"Whither shall I go from thy Spirit, or whither shall 
I flee from thy presence ? If I climb up into the 
heights of heaven, thou art there enthroned in light : 
if I go down to the depths of the grave, thou art 
there also in thy pavilion of darkness. If I retire to 
the remotest eastern climes, where the morning first 
takes wing; if, swifter than the darting ray, I pass 
to the opposite regions of the west, and remain in 
the uttermost parts of the sea:* shall I, in that dis- 
tant situation, be beyond thy reach ; or, by this sud- 
den transition, escape thy notice? So far from it, 
that could I, with one glance of thought, transport 
myself beyond all the bounds of creation, I should 
still be enclosed in the hollow of thy hand. Awful, 
yet delightful truth ! Let it be interwoven with 
every thought, and become one with the very con- 
sciousness of my existence; that I may continually 
walk with God, and conduct myself, in every step of 
my behaviour, « as seeing him that is invisible.' 

They are the happy persons; felicity, true felicity, 
is all their own, who live under an habitual sense 
of God's omnipresence, and a sweet persuasion of his 
special love. If dangers threaten, their impregnable 
defence is at hand. Nothing can be so near to terrify, 
as their almighty Guardian to secure them. To 
these the hours can never be tedious, and it is impos- 
sible for them to be alone. Do they step aside from 
the occupations of animal life ? A more exalted set 
of employments engage their attention. They ad- 
* Psal. cxxxix. 7—9. 



202 CONTEMPLATIONS 

dress themselves, in all the various acts of devotion, 
to their heavenly Father, who now sees in secret, 
and will hereafter reward them openly : they spread 
all their wants before his indulgent eye, and disbur- 
den all their sorrows into his compassionate botom. 
Do they withdraw from human society * They find 
themselves under the more immediate regards of 
their Maker. If they resign the satisfactions of social 
intercourse, it is to cultivate a correspondence with 
the condescending Deity, and taste the pleasures of 
divine friendship. What is such a state, but the very 
suburbs of heaven ? What is such a conduct but an 
antepast of eternal blessedness ? 

Now, my soul, the day is ended. The hours are 
all fled : they are fled to the supreme Judge, and 
have given in their evidence; an evidence registered 
in heaven, and to be produced at the great audit. 
Happy they, whose improvement has kept pace with 
the fleeting minutet; who have seized the important 
fugitives, and engaged them in the pursuit of wis- 
dom, or devoted them to the service of virtue. 

Fugitives indeed they are. Our moments slip away 
silently and insensibly : the thief steals not more un- 
perceived from the pillaged house. And will the 
runagates never stop ? No ; wherever we are, how- 
ever employed, time pursues his incessant course. 
Though we are listless and dilatory, the great mea- 
surer of our days presses on ; still presses on in his 
unwearied career, and whirls our weeks, and months, 
and years away. Is it not then surprisingly strange, 
to hear people complain of the tediousness of their 
time, and how heavy it hangs upon their hands ? to 
see them contrive a variety of amusing artifices to 
accelerate its flight, and get rid of its burden ? Ah ! 



ON THE NIGHT. 203 

thoughtless mortals ! Why need you urge the head- 
long torrent ? Your days are swifter than a post, 
which, carrying dispatches of the last importance, 
with unremitted speed scours the road. They pass 
away like the nimble ships, which have the wind in 
their wings, and skim along the watery plain. They 
hasten to their destined period with the rapidity of 
an eagle, which leaves the stormy blast behind her, 
while she cleaves the air, and darts upon her prey.* 

Now the day is gone, how short it appears ! When 
my fond eye beheld it in perspective, it seemed a 
rery considerable space. Minutes, crowded upon mi- 
nutes; and hours, ranged behind hours; exhibited 
an extensive draught, and nattered me with a long 
progression of pleasures; but, upon a retrospective 
view, how wonderfully is the scene altered ! The 
landscape, large and spacious, which a warm fancy 
drew, brought to the test of cool experience, shrinks 
into a span : just as the shores vanish and mountains 
dwindle to a spot, when the sailor, surrounded by 
skies and ocean, throws his last look ou his native 
land. How clearly do I now discover the cheat ! 
May it never impose upon my unwary imagination 
again ! I find, there is nothing abiding on this side 
eternity. A. long duration, in a state of finite exist- 
ence, is mere illusion. 

Perhaps the healthy and the gay may not readily 
credit the serious truth ; especially from a young 
pen, and new to its employ. Let us then refer our- 
selves to the decision of the ancient. Ask some 
venerable old person, who is just marching off the 
mortal stage, How many have been the days of the 
years of thy life ? It was a monarch's question ; and 
* Job ix. 26. 



204 CONTEMPLATIONS 

therefore can want no recommendation to the fashion- 
able world. Observe how he shakes his hoary locks, 
and from a deep-felt conviction replies, ' Four-score 
years have finished their rounds, to furrow these 
cheeks, and clothe this head in snow. Such a term 
may seem long and large to inconsiderate youth. But 
O ! how short, how scanty, to one that has made the 
experiment ! short, as a gleam of transient sunshine; 
scanty, as the shadow that departeth. Methinks it 
was but yesterday, that I exchanged my childish 
sports for manly exercises ; and now I am resigning 
them both for the sleep of death. As soon as we are 
born, we begin to draw to our end ; and how small 
is the interval between the cradle and the tomb !' 
O! may we believe this testimony of mature age! 
May every evening bring it with clearer evidence to 
our minds ! And may we form such an estimate of 
the little pittance, while it is upon the advancing 
hand, as we shall certainly make, when the sands are 
all run down ? 

Let me add one reflection on the work to be done, 
while this shuttle is flying through the loom;* a 
work of no small difficulty, yet of the utmost conse- 
quence? Hast thou not seen, hast thou not known, 
the excellent of the earth ; who were living images 
of their Maker? His divine likeness was transfused 
into their hearts, and beamed forth in all their con- 
duct; beamed forth in meekness of wisdom, and 
purity of affecuon; in all the tender offices of love, 
and all the nobler efforts of zeal. To be stamped 
with the same beautiful signature, and to be fol- 
lowers of them as they were of Christ; this, this is 
thy business. On the accomplishment of this, thy 

* My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle. Job vii.6. 



ON THE NIGHT. 205 

eternal all depends. And will an affair of such un- 
speakable weight admit of a moment's delay, or con- 
sist with the least remissness ? especially, since much 
of thy appointed time is already elapsed, and the re- 
mainder is all uncertainty, save only that it is in the 
very act to fly. Or suppose thou hadst made a cove- 
nant with the grave, and wast assured of reaching 
the age of Methuselah ; how soon would even such a 
lease expire ! Extend it, if you please, still farther ; 
and let it be co-existent with nature itself. How in- 
considerable is the addition? For yet a very little 
while, and the commissioned archangel lifts up his 
hand to heaven, and swears by the Almighty name, 
that time shall be no longer.* Then, abused oppor- 
tunities will never return; and new opportunities 
will never more be offered. Then, should negligent 
mortals wish— wish ever so passionately— for a few 
hours— a few moments only— to be thrown back from 
the opening eternity ; thousands of worlds would not 
be able to procure the grant. 

Shall I now be industrious to shorten, what is no 
longer than a span ; or to quicken tne pace of what 
is ever on the wing ? Shall I squander away what is 
unutterably important, while it lasts ; and when once 
departed, is altogether irrevocable ? O ! my soul 
forbear the folly, forbear the desperate extravagance. 
Wilt thou chide, as a loiterer, the arrow that bound- 
eth from the string ; or sweep away diamonds, as the 
refuse of thy house ? Throw time away ? Astonish- 
ing, ruinous, irreparable profuseness ! Throw em- 
pires away, and be blameless. But O ! be parsimo- 
nious of thy days ; husband thy precious hours. They 
go connected, indissolubly connected, with heaven or 

* Tiiis aliudes to the beginning of Revelations the xth. 
19 



206 CONTEMPLATIONS 

hell.* Improved, they are a sure pledge of everlast- 
ing glory ; wasted, they are a sad preface to never- 
ending confusion and anguish. 

What a profound silence has composed the world? 
So profound is the silence, that my very breath 
seems a noise; the ticking of my watch is distinctly 
heard; if I do but stir, it creates a disturbance. 
There is, now, none of that confused din, from the 
tumultuous city; no voice of jovial rustics from the 
neighbouring meadow ; no chirping melody from the 
shaded thicket. Every lip is sealed; not the least 
whisper invades the air, nor the least motion rustles 
among the boughs. Echo herself sleeps unmolested. 
The expanded ear, though all attention, catches no 
sound, but the liquid lapse of a distant murmuring 
stream. 

Ail things are husb'd, as nature's self lay dead. 

If, in the midst of this deep and universal compo- 
sure, ten thousand bellowing thunders should burst 
over my head, and rend the skies with their united 
volleys ; how should I bear so unexpected a shock ? 
It would stun my senses, and confound my thoughts; 
I should shudder in every limb ; perhaps sink to the 
earth with terror. Consider, then, O mortals! con- 
sider the much more prodigious and amazing call, 

* I remember to have seen upon a sun-dial in a physician's 
garuen at Northampton, the following inscription; which, 1 
think, is the most proper motto for the instrument that mea- 
sures our time; and the most striking admonition that can 
possibly be represented to every eye: 

Ab hoc nionieuto pcndet aternitas. 
The weighty sense of which, I know not how to express in 
English, more happily than in those words of Dr. Watts; 
Good God ! on what a slender thread 
[Or, on what a moment of time] 
Hang ererlaatiug things ! 



ON THE NIGHT. 207 

which will, ere long, alarm your sleeping hones. 
"When the tenants of the tomb have slumbered, in 
the most undisturbed repose, for a multitude of ages ; 
what an inconceivable consternation must the shout 
of the archangel, and the trump of God, occasion ! 
Will it not wound the ear of the ungodly; and af- 
fright, even to distraction, the impenitent sinner? 
The stupendous peal will sound through the vast of 
heaven; will shake the foundations of nature; and 
pierce even the deepest recesses of the grave. And 
how — O ! how will the prisoners of divine justice be 
able to endure that tremendous summons to a far 
more tremendous tribunal ! Do thou, my soul, listen 
to the still voice of the gospel ; attend, in this thy 
day, to the gracious invitations of thy Saviour. Then 
shall that great midnight cry lose its horror, and be 
music in thy ears : it shall be welcome to thy re- 
viving clay, as the tidings of liberty to the dungeon 
captive ; as the year of jubilee to the harassed slave. 
This, this shall be its charming import; 'Awake, and 
sing, ye that dwell in dust.' * 

What a general cessation of affairs has this dusky 
hour introduced ! A little while ago, all was hurry, 
hurry. Life and activity exerted themselves in a 
thousand busy forms. The city swarmed with pass- 
ing and repassing multitudes; all the country was 
sweat and dust; the air floated in perpetual agitation, 
by the flitting birds, and humming bees; art sat 
prying with her piercing eyes; while industry plied 
her restless hands. But see, how all this fervent and 
impetuous bustle is fled with the setting sun. The 
beasts are slunk to their grassy couch, and the winged 
people are retired to their downy nests ; the hammer 
* Isai xxvi. 19. 



208 CONTEMPLATIONS 

has resigned its sounding task, and the file ceases to 
repeat its flying touches : shut is the well-frequented 
shop, and its threshold no longer worn by the feet of 
numerous customers. The village swain lies drowned 
in slumbers ; and even his trusty dog, who for a con- 
siderable time stood sentry at the door, is extended 
at his ease, and snores with his master. In every 
place toil reclines her head, and application folds her 
arms. All interests seem to be forgot; all pursuits 
are suspended ; all employment is sunk away ; sunk 
away with those fluttering myriads, which lately 
sported in the sun's departing rays. It is like the 
sabbath of universal nature; or as though the pulse 
of life stood still. 

Thus will it be with our infinitely momentous con- 
cerns, when once the shadows of the evening (that 
long evening, which follows the footsteps of death !) 
are stretched over us. The dead cannot seek unto 
God ; the living, the living alone, are possessed of 
this inestimable opportunity.* • There is no work 
or device, no repentance or amendment in the grave, f 
whither we are all hasting.' When once that closing 
scene is advanced, we shall have no other part to act 
on this earthly theatre. Then the sluggard, who has 
slumbered away life in a criminal inactivity, must lie 
down in hopeless distress, and everlasting sorrow. 
Then, that awful doom will take place, ' He that is 
holy, let him be holy still; and he that is filthy, let 
him be filthy for ever.' 

* Behold '. now is tlie accepted time. Beliold ! now is the 
day of salvation. 2 Cor. vi. 2. 

Haste, haste, lie lies in wait, lie's at the door, 
Insidious death ! Should Ins strung hand arrest, 
No composition sets the pris'ner free, 
r lsai. xxxviii. 11. 



ON THE NIGHT. 209 

Is it so my soul ? Is this the only, only time al- 
lotted for obtaining the great reward, and making thy 
salvation sure ? and art thou lulled in a vain security, 
or dreaming in a supine inadvertency? Start, O! 
start from thy trance ; gird up the loins of thy mind, 
and work while it is day ; improve the present seed- 
time, that eternity may yield a joyful harvest. We 
especially, who are watchmen in Israel, and ministers 
of the glorious gospel ; may we be awakened by this 
consideration to all assiduity in our holy office. 
Some or other of cur people are ever and anon de- 
parting into the invisible state; all our friends are 
making incessant approaches to their long home; 
and we ourselves shall very shortly be transmitted to 
the confinement of the tomb. This is the favourable 
juncture, wherein alone we can contribute to their 
endless welfare ; this is the crisis, the all-important 
crisis, of their final felicity. Instantly, therefore, let 
us pour in our wholesome instructions ; instantly, 
let us ply them with our earnest exhortations. A 
moment's delay may be an irreparable loss ; may be 
irretrievable rum. While we procrastinate, a fatal 
stroke may intervene, and place us beyond the power 
of administering, or place them beyond all possi- 
bility of receiving any spiritual good.* 

How frequently is the face of nature changed ! and, 
by changing, made more agreeable ! The long con- 
tinued glitter of the day, renders the soothing shades 
of the evening doubly welcome ; nor does the morn 
ever purple the east with so engaging a lustre, as 
after the gloom of a dark and dismal night. At pre- 
sent a calm of tranquillity is spread through the 
universe. The weary winds have forgot to blow ; the 
* l Kings xx. 40. 
19* 



210 CONTEMPLATIONS 

gentle gales have fanned themselves asleep; not so 
much as a single leaf nods; even the quivering aspin 
rests; and not one breath curls o'er the stream. 
Sometimes, on the contrary, the tempest summons 
all the forces of the air, and pours itself with resist- 
less fury from the angry north. The whole atmo- 
sphere is tossed into tumultuous confusion, and the 
watery world is heaved to the clouds. The astonished 
mariner and his straining vessel, now scale the rolling 
mountain, and hang dreadfully visible on the broken 
surge: now shoot, with headlong impetuosity, into 
the yawning gulph; and neither hulk nor mast is 
seen. The storm sweeps over the continent, raves 
along the city streets, struggles through the forest- 
boughs, and terrifies the savage nations with a howl 
more wildly horrid than their own. The knotty oaks 
bend before the blast, their iron trunks groan, and 
their stubborn limbs are dashed to the ground; the 
lofty dome rocks, and even the solid tower totters on 
its basis. 

Such variations are kindly contrived, and with an 
evident condescension to the fickleness of our taste ; 
because a perpetual repetition of the same objects 
would create satiety and disgust : therefore the in- 
dulgent Father of our race has diversified the univer- 
sal scene, and bid every appearance bring with it the 
charm of novelty. This circumstance is beneficial as 
well as entertaining. Providence, ever gracious to 
mortals, ever intent on promoting our felicity, has 
taken care to mingle in the constitution of things 
what is pleasing to our imagination, with what is ser- 
viceable to our interests. The piercing winds and 
rugged aspects of winter, render the balmy gales and 
flowery scenes of spring peculiarly delightful. At the 



ON THE NIGHT. 211 

same time the keen frosts mellow the soil and pre- 
pare it for the hand of industry ; the rushing rains 
impregnate the glebe, and fit it to become a magazine 
of plenty. The earth is a great laboratory ! and 
December's cold collects the gross materials, which 
are sublimated by the refining warmth of May. The 
air is a pure elastic fluid; and were it always to re- 
main in this motionless serenity, it would lose much 
of its active spring : were it never agitated by those 
wholesome concussions, it would contract a noisome, 
perhaps, pestilential taint; in which cases, our respira- 
tion, instead of purifying, would corrupt the vital 
juices; instead of supplying us with refreshment, 
would be a source of diseases; or every gasp we draw 
might be unavoidable death. How then should we 
admire, how should we adore, that happy union of 
benignity and wisdom, which, from a variety of dis- 
pensations, produces an uniformity of good; pro- 
duces a perpetual succession of delights, and an un- 
interrupted series of advantages ? 

The darkness is now at its height, and I cannot 
but admire the obliging manner of its taking place. 
It comes not with a blunt and abrupt incivility, but 
makes gentle and respectful advances. A precipitate 
transition from the splendours of day to all the horrors 
of midnight, would be inconvenient and frightful! it 
would bewilder the traveller in his journey, it would 
strike the creation with amazement, and, perhaps, 
be pernicious to the organs of sight. Therefore the 
gloom rushes not upon us instantaneously, but in- 
creases by slow degrees ; and, sending twilight be- 
fore as its harbinger, decently advertises us of its 
approach. By this means we are neither alarmed nor 
incommoded by the change ; but aie able to take all 



212 CONTEMPLATIONS 

suitable and timely measures for its reception. Thus 
graciously has Providence regulated, not only the 
grand vicissitudes of the seasons, but also the common 
interchanges of light and darkness, with an apparent 
reference to our comfort. 

Now the fierce inhabitants of the forest forsake 
their dens. A thousand grim forms, a thousand 
growling monsters, pace the desert. Death is in their 
jaws, while, stung with hunger and athirst for blood, 
they roam their nightly rounds. Unfortunate the 
traveller who is overtaken by the night in those dismal 
wilds ! How must he stand aghast at the mingled yell 
of ravenous throats, the lions roaring after their prey ! 
Defend him, propitious Heaven ! or else he must see 
his endearing spouse, and hail his native home, no 
more ! Now the prowling wolf, like a murderous 
ruffian, dogs the shepherd's footsteps, and besets his 
bleating charge. The fox, like a crafty felon, steals 
to the thatched cottage, and carries off the feathered 
booty. 

Happy for the world, were these the only destroyers 
that walk in darkness. But, alas ! there are savages 
in human shape; who, mufHc-d in shades, infest the 
abodes of civilized life. The sons of violence make 
choice of this season to perpetrate the most out- 
rageous acts of wrong and robbery.* The adulterer 
waiteth for the twilight; and, baser than the villain 
on the highway, betrays the honour of his bosom- 
friend. Now faction forms her close cabals, and 
whispers her traitorous insinuations. Now rebellion 
plans her accursed plots, and prepares the train to 

- When nijht 



ON THE NIGHT. 213 

blow a nation into ruin. Now crimes, which hide 
theii odious heads in the day, haunt the seats of 
society, and stalk through the gloom with audacious 
front. Now the vermin of the stews crawl from their 
lurking holes to wallow in sin, and spread contagion 
through the night; each soothing himself with the 
fond notion, that all is safe, that no eye sees. 

Are they then concealed ? Preposterous madmen ! 
to draw the curtain between their infamous practices 
and a little set of mortals, but lay them open to all 
these chaste and wakeful eyes of heaven. As though 
the moon and stars were made, to light men to their 
revels, and not to God. Are they then concealed ? 
No, truly. Were every one of these vigilant lumina- 
ries closed ; an eye keener than the lightning's flash, 
an eye brighter than ten thousand suns, beholds their 
every motion. Their thickest shades are beaming 
day* to the jealous Inspector and supreme Judge of 
human actions. Deluded creatures ! have ye not 
heard, have ye not read, ' that clouds and darkness 
are his majestic residence ?'t In that very gloom to 
which you fly for covert, he erects his throne. What 
you reckon your screen is the bar of his tribunal. O ! 
remember this ! Stand in awe, and sin not. Re- 
member, that the great and terrible God is about 
your path,± when you take your midnight range ; is 
about your bed, when you indulge the loose desire ; 
and spies out all your ways, be they ever so secretly 
conducted, or artfully disguised. 

* This is finely and very forcibly expressed by the psalmist: 
' If 1 say, peradventure "the darkness shall cover me; then 
shall my night be turned to day.' Or, as it may be rendered 
somewhat more emphatically, ' Even the night shall be broad 
daylight to all around mi ' ■ 
+ Psal. xcvii. 2. 



214 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Some minutes ago, a passenger crossed along the 
road. His horse's foot struck the ground, and fetched 
fire from a flint. My eye, though at a distance, 
catched the view, and saw, with great clearness, the 
transient sparkles ; of which, had I been ever so near, 
I should not have discerned the least glimpse under 
the blaze of day. So, when sickness has drawn a veil 
over the gaiety of our hearts ; when misfortunes have 
eclipsed the splendour of our outward circumstances ; 
how many important convictions present themselves 
with the brightest evidence ! Under the sunshine of 
prosperity they lay undiscovered ; but, when some in- 
tervening cloud has darkened the scene, they emerge 
from their obscurity, and even glitter upon our 
minds. Then, the world, that delusive cheat, con- 
fesses her emptiness ; but Jesus, the bright and morn- 
ing star, beams forth with inimitable lustre. Then 
vice loses all her fallacious allurements ; that painted 
strumpet is horrible as the hags of hell : but virtue, 
despised virtue, gains loveliness from a lowering Pro- 
vidence, and treads the shades with more than mortal 
charms. May this reconcile me, and all the sons of 
sorrow, to our appointed share of suffering ! If tri- 
bulation tend to dissipate the inward darkness, and 
pour heavenly day upon our minds ; welcome distress ; 
welcome disappointment ; welcome whatever our fro- 
ward flesh or peevish passion, would miscal calamities. 
These light afflictions, which are but f^r a moment, 
shall sit easy upon our spirits; since they befriend 
our knowledge, promote our faith, and so ' work out 
for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of 
glory.'* 

How has this darkness snatched every splendid and 
* a Cor. It. 17. 



ON THE NIGHT. 215 

graceful object from my sight! It has dashed the 
sponge over the pictures of spring, and destroyed all 
the delicate distinctions of things. Where are now 
the fine things, which so lately charmed me from the 
glowing parterre ? The blush is struck out from the 
cheeks of the lovely rose, and the snowy hue is dropt 
from the lily. I cast my eyes toward a magnificent 
seat, but the aspiring columns and fair expanded 
front are mingled in rude confusion. Without the 
sun, all the elegance of the blooming world is a mere 
blank, all the symmetry of architecture is a shapeless 
heap. 

Is not this an expressive emblem of the loveliness 
which the Son of Righteousness transfuses into all 
that is amiable ? Were it not for Jesus and his merits, 
I should sigh with anguish of spirit, even while I 
roam through ranks of the most beautiful flowers, or 
breathe amidst a wilderness of sweets. Were it not 
for Jesus and his merits, I should roam like some dis- 
consolate spectre, even through the smiles of creation 
and the caresses of fortune. My conversation in this 
world, though dressed in the most engaging forms of 
external pleasure, would be like the passage of a con- 
demned malefactor through enamelled meadows and 
bowers of bliss, to be broke upon the wheel, or to ex- 
pire on the rack. But a daily reflection on the Lamb's 
atoning blood; a comfortable trust that my soul is 
reconciled through this divine expiation ; this is the 
ray, the golden ray, which irradiates the face of the 
universe. This is the oil uf beauty, which make all 
things wear a cheerful aspect ; and the oil of glad- 
ness, which disposes the spectator to behold them 
with delight. This is the secret charm which teacheth 



216 CONTEMPLATIONS 

nature, in all her prospects and all her productions, 

bo exquisitely to please. 

« Man goeth forth to his work, and to his labour, 
till the evening.' But then his strength fails, his 
spirits flag, and he stands in need, not only of some 
respite from toil, but of some kindly and sovereign 
refreshments. 'What an admirable provision for this 
purpose is sleep ! Sleep introduces a most welcome 
vacation both for the soul and body The exercises 
of the brain, and the labours of the han^ are at once 
discontinued; so that the weary limbs .epair their 
exhausted vigour, while the pensive thoughts drop 
their load of sorrows, and the busy ones rest from 
the fatigues of application. Most reviving cordial ! 
equally beneficial to our animal and intellectual 
powers. It supplies the fleshy machine, and keeps all 
its nice movements in a proper posture for easy play. 
It animates the thinking faculties with fresh alacrity, 
and rekindles their ardour for the studies of the 
dawn. Without these enlivening recruits, how soon 
would the most robust constitution be wasted into a 
walking skeleton, and the most learned sage dege- 
nerate into a hoary idiot ! Some time ago I beheld 
with surprise poor Florio. His air was wild, his 
countenance meagre, his thoughts roving, and speech 
disconcerted. Inquiring the cause of this strange 
alteration, I was informed, that for several nights he 
had not closed his eyes in sleep. For want of which 
noble restorative, that sprightly youth (who was once 
the life of the discourse, and the darling of the com- 
pany,) is becone a spectacle of misery and horror. 

How many of my fellow-creatures are, at this very 
instant, confined to the bed of languishing, and com- 



ON THE NIGHT. 217 

plaining with that illustrious sufferer of old,* * Wea- 
risome nights are appointed to me !' Instead of 
indulging soft repose, they are counting the tedious 
hours, telling every striking clock, or measuring the 
very moments by their throbbing pulse. How many, 
harassed with pain, most passionately long to make 
some little truce with their agonies in peaceful slum- 
bers ! How many, sick with disquietude, and restless 
even on their downy pillows, would purchase this 
transient oblivion of their woes, almost at any rate ! 
That which wealth cannot procure, which multitudes 
sigh for in vain, thy God has bestowed on thee times 
out of number. The welcome visitant, punctual at 
the needed hour, has entered thy chamber, and poured 
his poppies round thy couch; has gently closed thy 
eye-lids, and shed his slumberous dews over all thy 
senses. 

Since sleep is so absolutely necessary, so inestima- 
bly valuable, observe what a fine apparatus Almighty 
goodness has made, to accommodate us with the balmy 
blessing. With how kind a precaution he removes 
whatever might obstruct its access, or impede its 
influence ! He draws around us the curtain of dark- 
ness, which inclines us to a drowsy indolence, and 
conceals every object that might too strongly agitate 
the sense. He conveys peace into our apartments, 
and imposes silence on the whole creation. Every 
animal is bidden to tread softly, or rather to cease 
from its motion, when man is retiring to his repose. 
May we not discern, in this gracious disposition of 
things, the tender cares of a nursing mother, who 
hushes every noise, and secludes every disturbance, 
when she has laid the child of her love to rest ? S<» 
* Job. vii. 3. 
20 



218 CONTEMPLATIONS 

by such soothing circumstances and gently-working 
opiates, he giveth to his beloved sleep.* 

Another signal instance of a Providence intent 
upon our welfare, is, that we are preserved safe in 
the hours of slumber. How are we then lost to all 
apprehension of danger, even though the murderer 
be at our bed-side, or his naked sword at our breast ! 
Destitute of all concerns for ourselves, we are unable 
to think of, much more to provide for, our own secu 
rity. At these moments, therefore, we lie open to in- 
numerable perils; perils, from the resistless rage of 
flames : perils, from the insidious artifices of thieves, 
or the outrageous violence of robbers: perils from 
the irregular workings of our own thoughts.f and 
especially from the incursions of our spiritual enemy. 

* Psal. c. cxxvii. 2. 

t I think, it is referable only to superintending and watchful 
Providence, that we are not hurried into the most pernicious 
actions, when our imagination is heated, and our reason stu- 
pified by drenms. We have sometimes heard of unfortunate 
persons, who, walking in their sleep, have thrown themselves 
headlong from a window, and been dashed to death on the 
pebbles. And whence is it that such disastrous accidents are 
only related as pieces of news, not experienced by ourselves 
or our families 1 Were our minds more sober in their ope- 
rations, or more circumspect in their regards? No, verily; 
nothing could be more wild than their excursions, and none 
could be more inattentive to their own welfare. Therefore, if 
we have laid us down, and slept in peace, it was because the 
Lord vouchsafed us the sweet refreshment ; if we arose again 
#.i safety.it was because the Lord sustained us with his unre- 
mitted protection. 

Will the candid reader excuse me, if I add a short storv, 
or rather a matter of fact, suitable to the preceding remark I 
Two persons, who had been hunting together in the day, slept 
together the following night. One of them was renewing the 
pursuit in his dream ; and having run the whole circle of the 
chase, came at last to the fall of the stasr. Upon this, he cried 
out, with adeterrained ardour, ' I'll kill him, I'll kill him ;' and 
immediately feels for the knife which he carried in his pocket. 
His companion happening to awake, and ' 
ed, leaped from the bed. Being secure f 



ON THE NIGHT 219 

What dreadful mischief might that restless, that 
implacahle adversary of mankind work, was there not 
an invisible hand to control his rage, and protect poor 
mortals ! what scenes of horror might he represent to 
our imaginations, and • scare us with dreams, or ter- 
rify us with visions !' But the Keeper of Israel, who 
never slumbers nor sleeps, interposes in our behalf, 
at once to cherish us under his wings, and to defend 
us with his shield. It is said of Solomon, 'that 
threescore valiant men were about his bed, all ex- 
pert in war, every one with his sword upon his 
thigh, because of fear in the night.'* But one 
greater than Solomon, one mightier than myriads of 
armed hosts, even the great Jehovah, in whom is 
everlasting strength, he vouchsafes to encamp about 
our houses, to watch over our sleeping minutes, and 
to stop all the avenues of ill. O ! the unwearied and 
condescending goodness of our Creator ! who lulls us 
to our rest, by bringing on the silent shades; and 
plants his own ever-watchful eye as our sentinel, 
while we enjoy the needful repose. 

Reason now resigns her sedate office, and fancy, ex- 
travagant fancy, leads the mind through a maze of 
vanity. The head is crowded with false images, and 
tantalized with the most ridiculous misapprehensions 
of things. Some are expatiating amidst fairy fields, 
and gathering garlands of visionary bliss, while their 
bodies are stretched on a wisp of straw, and sheltered 

moon shining into the room, he stood to view the event ; 
when, to his rise, the infatuated sportsman 

gave several deadly stabvn the very place, where a moment 
before, the throat and the life of his friend lay. This I men- 
tion, as a proof that nothing lenders us, even from being as- 
sassins of others, or murderers of ourselves, amidst the mad 
sallies of sleep, only the preventing care of our heavenly Father. 
* Cant. iii. 7. 8. 



220 CONTEMPLATIONS 

by the cobwebs of a barn. Others, quite insensible of 
their rooms of state, are mourning in a doleful dun- 
geon, or struggling with raging billows. Perhaps, 
with hasty steps, they climb the craggy cliff, and 
with real anxiety fly from the imaginary danger. Or 
else, benumbed with sudden fear, and finding them- 
selves unable to escape, they give up at once their 
hopes and their efforts; and, though reclined on a 
couch of ivory, are sinking, all helpless and distressed, 
in the furious whirlpool. So accountable are the va- 
garies of the brain, while sleep maintains its domi- 
nion over the limbs ! 

But is this the only season, when absurd and inco- 
herent irregularities play their magic on our minds? 
Are there not those who dream, even in their waking 
moments ? Some pride themselves in a notion of su- 
perior excellency, because the royal favour has an- 
nexed a few splendid titles to their names, or because 
the dying silkworm has bequeathed her finest threads 
to cover their nakedness. Others congratulate their 
own signal happiness, because loads of the golden 
lumber are amassed together in their coflers ; or pro- 
mise themselves a most superlative felicity indeed, 
when some thousands more are added to the useless 
heap. Nor are there wanting others, who gape after 
substantial satisfactisn from airy applause, and flatter 
themselves with, I know not what, immortality in the 
momentary buz of renown. Are any of these a whit 
more reasonable in their opinions, than the poor 
ragged wretch in his reveries ; who, while snoring 
under a hedge, exults in the possession of his stately 
palace and sumptuous furniture? If persons, who are 
very vassals of their own domineering passions, and 
led captive by numberless temptations ; if these per- 



ON THE NIGHT. 221 

sons pique themselves with a conceit of their liberty, 
and fancy themselves the generous and gallant spirits 
of the age ; where is the difference between theirs and 
the madman's frenzy; who, though chained to the 
floor, is thronged in thought, and wielding an ima- 
ginary sceptre ? In a word, as many as borrow their 
dignity from a plume of feathers, or the gaudy trap- 
pings of fortune ; as many as send their souls to seek 
for bliss in the blandishments of sense, or in any thing 
short of the divine favour, and a well-grounded hope 
of the incorruptible inheritance ;* what are they, 
but dreamers with their eyes open ; delirious, though 
in health ? 

Would you see their picture, drawn to the very 
life, and the success of their schemes calculated with 
the utmost exactness, cast your eye upon that fine 
representation exhibited by the prophet : * It shall be 
even as when a hungry man dreameth, and behold, 
he eateth ; but he awaketh, and his soul is empty ; or, 
as when a thirsty man dreameth, and behold, he 
drinketh; but he awaketh, and behold, he is faint, 
and his soul hath appetite.'f Such is the race, and 
such the prize of all those candidates for honour and 
joy, who run wide from the mark of the high calling 
of God in Christ Jesus. They live in vanity, and die 
in woe. Awaken us, merciful Lord, from those noon- 
tide trances ! Awaken us, while conviction may turn 
to our advantage, and not serve only to increase our 
torment. O ! let our ' eyes be enlightened, to discern 
the things that are excellent ;' and no longer be im- 
posed upon by fantastic appearances, which, however 

* These give a sacred and homefelt delight, 
A sober certainty of waking bliss.— Milt. Com. 
t Isa. xxix. 8. 



222 CONTEMPLATIONS 

pompous they may seem, will prove more empty than 
the visions of the night, more transient than the 
dream that is forgotten. 

Having mentioned sleep and dreams, let me once 
again consider those remarkable incidents of our 
frame ; so very remarkable, that I may venture to 
call them a kind of experimental mystery, and little 
less than a standing miracle. Behold the most vigor- 
ous constitution, when stretched on the bed of ease, 
and totally resigned to the slumbers of the night : its 
activity is oppressed with fetters of indolence; its 
strength is consigned over to a temporal y annihilation ; 
the nerves are like a bow unstrung, and the whole 
animal system is like a motionless log. Behold a 
person of the most delicate sensations and amiable 
dispositions; his eyes, though thrown wide open, 
admit not the visual ray ; at least, distinguish not 
objects; his ears, with the organs unimpaired, and 
articulate accents beating upon the drum, perceive 
not the sound; at least, apprehend not the mean- 
ing: the senses, and their exquisitely fine feel- 
ings, are overwhelmed with an unaccountable stupe- 
faction. You call him a social creature ; but where 
are his social affections ? He knows not the father 
that begat him ; and takes no notice of the friend 
that is as his own soul. The wife of his bosom may 
expire by his side, and he lie no more concerned than 
a barbarian. The children of his body may be tor- 
tured with the severest pangs, and he, even in the 
same chamber, remain untouched with the least com- 
miseration. Behold the most ingenious scholar, 
whose judgment is piercing, and able to trace the 
most intricate difficulties of science; his taste refined, 
and quick to relish all the beauties of sentiment and 



ON THE NIGHT. 223 

composition: yet at this juncture the thinking facul- 
ties are unhinged, and the intellectual economy quite 
disconcerted. Instead of close-connected reasonings, 
nothing but a disjointed huddle of absurd ideas ; in- 
stead of well-digested principles, nothing but a dis- 
orderly jumble of crude conceptions. The most pal- 
pable delusions impose upon his imagination. The 
whole night passes, and he frequently mistakes it for 
a single minute; is not sensible of the transition, 
hardly sensible of any duration. 

Yet no sooner does the morning dawn, and day- 
light enter the room, but this strange enchantment 
vanishes. The man awakes, and finds himself pos- 
sessed of all the valuable endowments, which for 
several hours were suspended or lost. His sinews 
are braced and fit for action : his senses are alert 
and keen. The romantic visionary brightens into the 
master of reason. The frozen or benumbed affec- 
tions melt with tenderness, and glow with benevo- 
lence: and, what is beyond measure surprising, the 
intoxicated mind works itself sober, not by slow de- 
grees, but in the twinkling of an eye recovers from 
its perturbation. Why does not the stupor which 
deadens all the nice operations of the animal powers, 
hold fast its possession? When the thoughts are, 
once disadjusted, why are they not always in confu- 
sion ? How is it, that they are rallied in a moment ; 
and, from the wildest irregularity, reduced to the 
most orderly array ? From an inactivity resembling 
death, how is the body so suddenly restored to vigour 
and agility? From extravagances bordering upon 
madness, how is the understanding instantaneously 
re-established in sedateness and harmony ? Surely 
« this is the Lord's doing, and it should be marvellous 



224 CONTEMPLATIONS 

in our eyes;' should awaken our gratitude and in- 
spirit our praise. 

This is the time in which ghosts are supposed to 
make their appearance. Now the timorous imagi- 
nation teems with phantoms, and creates numberless 
terrors to itself. Now dreary forms in sullen state, 
stalk along the gloom; or, swifter than lightning, 
glide across the shades. Now voices more than mor- 
tal are heard from the echoing vaults, and groans 
issue from the hollow tombs. Now melancholy spec- 
tres visit the ruins of ancient monasteries, and fre- 
quent the solitary dwellings of the dead. They pass 
and repass, in unsubstantial images, along the for. 
saken galleries ; or take their determined stand over 
some lamented grave. How often has the school-bo- 
fetched a long circuit, and trudged many a needle:* 
steep, in order to avoid the haunted church-yard ! Or 
if necessity, sad necessity, has obliged him to cross 
the spot where human skulls are lodged below, and 
the baneful yews shed supernumerary horrors above, 
a thousand hideous stories rush into his memory. 
Fear adds wings to his feet; he scarce touches the 
ground, dares not once look behind him, and blesses 
his good fortune, if no frightful sound purred at his 
heels, if no ghastly shape bolted upon his sight. 

'Tis strange to observe the excessive timidity which 
possesses many people's minds on this fanciful occa- 
sion; while they are void of all concern on others 
of the most tremendous import. Those who are star- 
tled, in any dark and lonely walk, at the very appre- 
hension of a single spectre, are nevertheless unim- 
pressed at the sure prospect of entering into a whole 
world of disembodied beings : nay, are without any 
emotions of awe, though they know themselves to be 



ON THE NIGHT. 225 

hastening into the presence of the Great, Infinite) 
and Eternal Spirit. Should some pale messenger 
from the regions of the dead draw back our curtains 
at the hour of midnight, and, appointing some par- 
ticular place, say, as the horrid apparition to Brutus, 
* I'll meet thee there :'* I believe, the boldest heart 
would feel something like a panic, would seriously 
think upon the adventure, and be in pain for the 
event. But when a voice from heaven cries, in the 
awakening language of the prophet, * Prepare to 
meet thy God, O Israel !*f how little is the warning 
regarded ! How soon is it forgot ! Preposterous stu- 
pidity ! to be utterly unconcerned, where it is the 
truest wisdom to take the alarm ; and to be all tre- 
pidation, where there is nothing really terrible ! Do 
thou, my soul, remember thy Saviour's admonition : 
' I will forewarn you, whom you shall fear. Fear 
not these imaginary horrors of the night ; but fear 
that awful Being, whose revelation of himself, though 
with expressions of peculiar mercy, made Moses, 
his favourite servant, tremble exceedingly ; whose 
manifestation, when he appears with purposes of 
inexorable vengeance, will make mighty conquerors, 
who were familiar with dangers, and estranged to 
dismay, call upon the mountains to fall on them, and 
the rocks to cover them : the menace of whose ma- 
jestic eye, when he comes attended with thousand 
thousands of his immortal hosts, will make the very 
heavens cleave asunder, and the earth flee away. 

* The story of Brutus, and Id's evil genius, is well known. 
Nor must it he denied, that the precise words of the spectre to 
the hero were, ' I'll meet thee at Hiilippi.' But as this would 
not ans.vi-i my purpose, 1 was obliged to make an alteration 
in the circumstance of place. 

t Amos iv. 12. 



226 CONTEMPLATIONS 

O! dread his displeasure; secure his favour; and 
then thou mayst commit all thy other anxieties to the 
wind. Thou mayst laugh at every other fear.' 

This brings to my mind a memorable and amazing 
occurrence, recorded in the book of Job;* which is, 
I think, no inconsiderable proof of the real existence 
of apparitions, on some very extraordinary emer- 
gencies; while it discountenances those legions of 
idle tales which superstition has raised and credu- 
lity received; since it teaches us, that if, at any time, 
those visitants from the unknown world render them- 
selves perceivable by mortals, it is not upon any er- 
rand of frivolous consequence; but, to convey intel- 
ligences of the utmost moment, or to work impres- 
sions of the highest advantage. 

'Twas in the dead of night. All nature lay shrouded 
in darkness. Every creature was buried in sleep. 
The most profound silence reigned through the uni- 
verse. In these solemn moments, Eliphaz alone, all 
wakeful and solitary, was musing upon sublime and 
heavenly subjects. When lo ! an awful being, from 
the invisible realms, burst into his apartment. A 
spirit passed before his face. Astonishment seized the 
beholder. His bones shivered within him, his flesh 
trembled all over him ; and the hair of his head stood 
erect with horror. Sudden and unexpected was the 
appearance of the phantom; not such its departure. 
It stood still, to present itself more fully to his view. 
It made a solemn pause, to prepare his mind for some 
momentous message. After which, a voice was heard : 
a voice, for the importance of its meaning, worthy to 
be had in everlasting remembrance; for the solem- 
nity of its delivery, enough to alarm a heart of stone. 



ON THE NIGHT. 227 

It spoke; and this was the purport of its words: 
Shall man, frail man, be just before the mighty God> 
Shall even the most accomplished of mortals be pure 
in the sight of his Maker ? Behold, and consider it 
attentively. He put no such trust in his most exalted 
servants as should bespeak them incapable of defect ; 
and his very angels he charged with folly ; as sinking, 
even in the highest perfection of their holiness, in- 
finitely beneath his transcendant glories ; as falling, 
even in all the fidelity of their obedience, inexpres- 
sibly short of the homage due to his adorable ma- 
jesty. If angelic natures must not presume to justify, 
either themselves or their services, before uncreated 
purity; how much more absurd is such a notion, how 
much more impious such an attempt, in them that 
dwell in houses of clay ; whose origin is from the dust, 
and whose state is all imperfection !' 

I would observe from hence, the very singular ne- 
cessity of that poverty of spirit which entirely re- 
nounces its own attainments ; and most thankfully 
submits to the righteousness of the incarnate God. 
To inculcate this lesson, the son of the Blessed came 
down from heaven ; and pressed no other principle 
with so repeated* an importunity on his hearers. 
To instil the same doctrine, the Holy Ghost touched 
the lips of the apostles with sacred eloquence ; and 
made it an eminent part of their commission, * to 
demolish every high imagination.' That no expe- 

* ' It is well worthy of our observation,' says an excellent com- 
mentator, 'that lio" one sentence uttered" bv our lord, is so 
frequently repeated as this : ' Whosoever shall exalt himself, 
shall be abated; ami he that shall hnmble himself, shall be 
exalt- d;' u hit h often occurs in the Emnrreli-ts ; but is never 
duly accnmpli-hed in us, till we disclaim all pr< te. sion to 
mnit :,mi ri-h.ti-.n.Mios of onr o-.in. ad seek them only ill 
the at'uxmcnt and obedience of Jesus Christ.' 



228 CONTEMPLATIONS 

dient might be wanting to give it a deep and lasting 
efficacy on the human mind, a phantom arises from 
the valley of the shadow of death, or a teacher de- 
scends from the habitation of spirits. Whatever then 
•we neglect, let us not neglect to cultivate this grace, 
which has been so variously taught, so powerfully 
enforced. 

Hark ! a doleful voice — with sudden starts, and 
hideous screams, it disturbs the silence of the peaceful 
night. 'Tis the screech-owl, sometimes in frantic, 
sometimes in disconsolate accents uttering her woes. 
She flies the vocal grove, and shuns the society of all 
the feathered choir. The blooming gardens and 
flowery meads have no charms for her. Obscene 
shades, rugged ruins, and walls overgrown with ivy, 
are her favourite haunts. Above, the mouldering 
precipice nods, and threatens a fall ; below the toad 
crawls, or the poisonous adder hisses. The sprightly 
morning, which awakens other animals into joy, ad- 
ministers no pleasure to this gloomy recluse. Even 
the smiling face of day is her aversion : and all its 
lovely scenes create nothing but uneasiness. 

So, just so, would it fare with the ungodly, were it 
possible to suppose their admission into the chaste 
and bright abodes of endless felicity. They would 
find nothing but disappointment and shame, even at 
the fountain head of happiness and honour. For how 
could the tongue habituated to profaneness, taste any 
delight in the harmonious adorations of heaven ? 
How could the lips cankered with slander, relish the 
raptures of everlasting praise? Where would be the 
satisfaction of the vain beauty, or the supercilious 
grandee; since, in the temple of the skies, no incence 
of flattery would be addressed to the former, nor any 



ON THE NIGHT. 229 

obsequious homage paid to the latter ? The spotless 
and inconceivable purity of the blessed God would 
flash confusion on the lascivious eye. The envious 
mind must be on a rack of self-tormenting passions, 
to observe millions of happy beings, shining in all 
the perfections of glory, and solacing themselves in 
the fulness of joy. In short, the unsanctifled soul, 
amidst holy and triumphant spirits, even in the re- 
fined regions of bliss and immortality, would be, 
like this melancholy bird, dislodged from her dark- 
some retirement, and imprisoned under the beams of 
day.* 

The voice of this creature screaming at our win- 
dows, or of the raven croaking over our houses, is, 
they say, a token of approaching death. There are 
persons, who would regard such an incident with no 
small degree of solicitude. Trivial as it is, it would 
damp their spirits, perhaps break their rest. One 
cannot but wonder, that people should suffer them- 
selves to be affrighted at such fantastical, and yet be 
quite unaffected with real, presages of their dissolu- 
tion. Real presages of this awful event address us 

* I would beg of the reader to observe, with what empha- 
sis and propriety our Lord touches this important point, in 
his memorable reply to Nicodemus. Vwily, verily, I say unto 
thee, except a man be born again, he cannot enter into the 
kingdom of heaven ; q. d. 'I waive the authority of the Su- 
preme Judge, and speak with the condescension of a teacher 
in Israpl. Though I might, without being liable to the least 
control, pass it into a sovereign decree ; that unrenewed 
mortals, who are slaves to corrupt appetite, shall not enter 
the habitations of the just ; I rather choose to represent it as 
a case utterly impossible; and charge the calamity, not upon 
divine severity but upon human folly. Such persons, from 
the very nature of things, preclude themselves; they incapa- 
citate their own minds; and contrarieties must be reconciled, 
before they, in their ui!. .con, can be partakers 

of those spiritual and sublime delights.' John iii. 3, 
21 



230 CONTEMPLATIONS 

from every quarter. What are these incumbent 
glooms which overwhelm the world, but a kind of 
pall provided for nature; and an image of that long 
night, which will quickly cover the inhabitants of the 
whole earth ? What an affinity has the sleep, which 
will very soon weigh down my drowsy eye-lids, with 
that state of entire cessation, in which all my senses 
must be laid aside ! The silent chamber, and the 
bed of slumber, are a very significant representation 
of the land, where all things are hushed ; all things 
are forgotten. What meant that deep death-bell 
note, which, the other evening, saddened the air ? 
Laden with the heaviest accents, it struck our ears, 
and seemed to knock at the door of our hearts. 
Surely, it brought a message to surviving mortals, 
and thus the tidings ran : « Mortals, the destroyer of 
your race is on his way. The last enemy has begun 
the pursuit ; and is gaining ground upon you every 
moment. His paths are strewed with heaps of slain. 
Even now his javelin has laid one of your neighbours 
in the dust ; and will soon, very soon, aim the inevit- 
able blow at each of your lives.' 

We need not go down to the charnel-house, nor 
carry our search into the repositories of the dead, in 
order to find memorials of our impending doom. A 
multitude of these remembrancers are planted in all 
our paths, and point the heedless passengers to their 
long home. I can hardly enter a considerable town, 
but I meet the funeral procession, or the mourners 
going about the streets: the hatchment suspended 
on the wall, or the crape streaming in the air, are 
silent intimations, that both rich and poor have been 
emptying their houses, and replenishing their sepul- 
chres. I can scarce join in any conversation, but 



ON" THE NIGHT. 231 

mention is made of some that are given over by the 
physician, and hovering on the confines of eternity ; 
of others that have just dropt their clay amidst weep- 
ing friends, and are gone to appear before the Judg 
of all the earth. There's not a newspaper comes to 
my hand, but amidst all its entertaining narrations, 
reads several serious lectures of mortality. What 
else are the repeated accounts — of age, worn out 
by slow-consuming sicknesses ; of youth, dashed to 
pieces by some sudden stroke of casualty ; of patriots, 
exchanging their seats in the senate for a lodging in 
the tomb; of misers, resigning their breath, and (O 
relentless destiny!) leaving their very riches for 
others ? Even the vehicles of our amusement are 
registers of the deceased, and the voice of fame sel- 
dom sounds, but in concert with a knell. 

These monitors crowd every place; not so much as 
the scenes of our diversion excepted. What are the 
decorations of our public buildings, and the most 
elegant furniture of our parlours, but the imagery of 
death, and trophies of the tomb ? That marble bust, 
and those gilded pictures, how solemnly they recog- 
nize the fate of others, and speakingly remind us o«. 
our own ! I see, I hear, and O ! I feel this great 
truth. It is interwoven with my constitution. The 
frequent decays of the structure foretel its fatal ruin. 
What are all the pains that have been darted through 
my limbs; what every disease that has assaulted my 
health; but the advanced guards of the foe ? W r hat 
are the languors and weariness that attend the la- 
bours of each revolving day, but the more secret 
practices of the adversary, slowly undermining the 
earthly tabernacle ? 

Amidst so many notices, shall we go on thoughtless 



232 CONTEMPLATIONS 

and unconcerned? Can none of these prognostics, 
which are sure as oracles, awaken our attention, and 
engage our circumspection ? Noah, 'tis written, 
being warned of God, prepared an ark. Imitate, my 
soul, imitate this excellent example. Admonished 
by such a cloud of witnesses, be continually putting 
thyself in a readiness for the last change. Let not 
that day, of which thou hast so many infallible signs, 
come upon thee unawares. Get the ivy untwined, 
and thy affections disentangled from this enchanting 
world; that thou mayst be able to quit it without 
reluctance. Get the dreadful hand-writing cancelled, 
and all thy sins blotted out ; that thou mayst depart 
in peace, and have nothing to fear at the decisive 
tribunal. Get, O ! get thyself interested in the Re- 
deemer's merits, and transformed into his sacred 
image; then shalt thou be meet for the inheritance 
of saints in light, and mayst even desire to be dis- 
solved, and to be with Christ. 
Sometimes in my evening walk I have heard 



. Lost, b. iii. 38. 
How different the airs of this charming songster from 
those harsh and boding outcries ! The little creature 
ran through all the variations of music, and showed 
herself mistress of every grace which constitutes or 
embellishes harmony. Sometimes she swells a manly 
throat, and her song kindles into ardour. The tone 
is so bold, and strikes with such energy, you would 
imagine the sprightly serenader in the very next 
thicket. Anon, the strain languishes, and the mourn- 
ful warbler melts into tenderness. The melancholy 
notes just steal upon the shades, and faintly touch 



ON THE NIGHT. 233 

your ear ; or, in soft and sadly-pleasing accents, they 
seem to die along the distant vale. Silence is pleased, 
and night listens to the trilling tale. 

What an invitation is this, to slip away from the 
thronged city ! This coy and modest minstrel enter- 
tains only the lovers of retirement ; those, who are 
carousing over their howls, or ranting at the riotous 
club, lose this feast of harmony. In like manner, the 
pleasures of religion, and the joy of reconciliation 
with God ; the satisfactions arising from an established 
interest in Christ, and from the prospect of a blissful 
immortality; these are all lost to the mind that is 
ever in the crowd, and dares not, or delights not, to 
retire into itself. Are we charmed with the nightin- 
gale's song? Do we wish to have it nearer, and hear 
it oftener ? Let us seek a renewed heart, and a re- 
signed will; a conscience that whispers peace, and 
passions that are tuned by grace. Then shall we 
never want a melody in our own breasts, far more 
musically pleasing than sweet Philomela's sweetest 
strains. 

As different as the voices of these birds, are the 
circumstances of those few persons who continue 
awake. Some are squandering, pearls shall I say, 
or kingdoms? No; but what is unspeakably more 
precious, time; squandering this inestimable talent 
with the most senseless and wanton prodigality. 
Not content with allowing a few spare minutes for 
the purpose of necessary recreation, they lavish many 
hours, devote whole nights, to that idle diversion of 
shuffling, ranging, and detaching a set of painted 
pasteboards. Others, instead of this busy trifling, 
act the part of their own tormentors; they even 
piquet themselves, and call it amusement ; they are 
21* 



234 CONTEMPLATIONS 

torn by wild horses, yet term it a sport. What else 
is the gamester's practice ? His mind is stretched on 
the tenter-hooks of anxious suspense, and agitated 
by the fiercest extremes of hope and fear ; while the 
dice are rattling, his heart is throbbing ; his fortune 
is tottering ; and possibly at the very next throw, 
the one sinks in the gulf of ruin, the other is hurried 
into the rage of distraction. 

Some, snatched from the bloom of health and the 
lap of plenty, are confined to the chamber of sick- 
ness ; where they are constrained, either to plunge 
into the everlasting world in an unprepared condition, 
or else (sad alternative !) to think over all the follies 
of a heedless life, and all the bitterness of approaching 
death. The disease rages; it baffles the force of me- 
dicine, and urges the reluctant wretch to the brink of 
the precipice: while furies rouse the conscience, and 
point at the bottomless pit below. Perhaps his droop- 
ing mother, deprived long ago of the husband of her 
bosom, and bereft of all her other offspring, is, even 
now, receiving the blow which consummates her ca- 
lamities.* In vain she tries to assuage the sorrows 

* This .brings to my mind one of the deepest mourning 
pieces extant in the productions of the pen. The stored ln>- 
torian paints it in all the simplicity of style, vet with all the 
strength of colouring : ' When Jesus came nigh to the gate of 
the city, behold ! there was a dead man carried out, the only 
son otitis mother, and she was a widow.' What a gradation 
is here! how pathetically beautiful! Every fresh circum- 
stance widens thp wound, aggravates the calamity, till the 
description is worked up into the most finished picture of ex- 
quisite and Inconsolable distress. He was a young man, cut 
off in the flower of life, amidst a thousand g'ly expectations 
and smiling hopes : a son, an only son ; the aftficted mother's 
all; so that none remained to preserve the name, or perpe- 
tuate the family. What rendered tiie ca-e still more deplora- 
ble, she was a widow, left entirely desolate, abandoned to her 
woes, without anv to share her 'sorrows, or to comfort her 
under the irreparable loss. Is not this a line sketch of the 



ON THE NIGHT. 2,35 

of a beloved son; in vain she attempts, with her 
tender offices, to prolong a life dearer than her own. 
He faints in her arms, he bows his head, he sinks in 
death. Fatal, doubly fatal, that last expiring pang ! 
While it dislodges the unwilling soul, it rends an 
only child from the yearning embraces of a parent; 
and tears away the support of her age from a discon- 
solate widow. 

While those long for a reprieve, others invite the 
stroke. Quite weary of the world, with a restless 
impatience they sigh for dissolution : some, pining 
away under the tedious decays of an incurable con- 
sumption ; or gasping for breath, and almost suffo- 
cated by an inundation of dropsical waters. On some, 
a relentless cancer has fastened its envenomed teeth ; 
and is gnawing them, though in the midst of bodily 
vigour, in the midst of pitying friends, gradually to 
death. Others are on a rack of agonies by convulsive 
fits of the stone. O ! how the pain writhes their 
limbs ; how the sweat bedews their flesh ; and their 
eye-balls wildly roll ! Methinks, the night condoles 
with these her distressed children, and sheds dewy 
tears over their sorrowful abodes. But of all mortals, 
they are the most exquisitely miserable, who groan 
beneath the pressure of a melancholy mind ; or smart 
under the lashes of a resentful conscience. Though 
robed in ermine, or covered with jewels, the state of 
a slave chained to the galleys, or of an exile con- 
demned to the mines, is a perfect paradise compared 
with theirs. 

O ! that the votaries of mirth, whose life is a con- 

im passioned and picturesque? Who can consider the narra- 
tive with any attention, and not feel his heart penetrated with 
a tender commiseration !— Luke vii. 12. 



236 CONTEMPLATIONS 

tinued round of merriment and whim, would bestow 
one serious reflection on this variety of human woes ! 
It might teach them to be less enamoured with the 
few languid sweets that are thinly scattered through 
this vale of tears, and environed with such a multi- 
tude of ragged thorns ; it might teach them no longer 
to dance away their years with a giddy rambling 
impulse ; but to aspire, with a determined aim, after 
those happy regions, where delights, abundant and 
unembittered, flow. 

Can there be circumstances, which a man of wisdom 
would more earnestly deprecate, than these several 
instances of grievous tribulation ? There are, and, 
what is very astonishing, they are frequently the 
desire and the choice of those, who fancy themselves 
the sole heirs of happiness; those, I mean, who are 
launching out into the depths of extravagance, and 
running excessive lengths of riot; who are prostitu- 
ting their reputation, and sacrificing their peace, to 
the gratification of their lusts ; sapping the founda- 
tion of their health in debaucheries ; or ship-wrecking 
the interests of their families in their bowls; and, 
what is worse, are forfeiting the joys of an eternal 
heaven for the sordid satisfactions of the beast, for 
the transitory sensations of an hour. Ye slaves of 
appetite, how far am I from envying your gross sen- 
vaalities and voluptuous revels ! Little, ah ! little 
are you sensible, that while indulgence showers her 
roses, and luxury diffuses her odours, they scatter 
poisons also, and shed unheeded bane, evils, incom- 
parably more malignant than the wormwood and gall 
of the sharpest affliction. Since death is in the 
drunkard's cup, and worse than poniards in the har- 
lot's embrace; may it ever be the privilege of the 



ON THE NIGHT. 237 

man whom I love, to go without his share of these 
pestilent sweets. 

Abundance of living sparks glitter in the lanes, and 
twinkle under the hedges. I suppose, they are the 
glow-worms, which have lighted their little lamps, 
and obtained leave, through the absence of the sun, 
to play a feeble beam. A faint glimmer just serves 
to render them perceivable, without tending at all to 
dissipate the shades, or making any amends for the 
departed day. Should some weather-beaten traveller,, 
dropping with wet, and shivering with cold, hover 
round this mimicry of fire, in order to dry his gar- 
ments, and warm his benumbed limbs ; should some 
bewildered traveller, groping for his way, in a starless 
night and trackless desert, take one of these languid 
tapers, as a light to his feet, and a lantern to his 
paths ; how certainly would both the one and the 
other be frustrated of their expectation ! And are 
they more likely to succeed, who, neglecting that 
sovereign balm which distilled from the cross, apply 
any carnal diversity to heal the anxiety of the mind ? 
who, deaf to the infallible decisions of revelation, 
resign themselves over to the erroneous conjectures 
of reason, in order to find the way that leadeth unto 
life ? or lastly, who have recourse to the froth of this 
vain world, for a satisfactory portion, and a substan- 
tial happiness ? Their conduct is in no degree wiser, 
their disappointment equally sure, and their miscar- 
riage infinitely more disastrous. To speak in the 
delicate language of a sacred writer, « they sow the 
wind, and will reap the whirlwind.'* 

To speak more plainly ; the pleasures of the world, 

which we are all so prone to doat upon; and the 

* H s. viii. 7. 



238 CONTEMPLATIONS 

powers of fallen reason, which some are so apt to 
idolize, are not only vain, but treacherous; not only 
a painted flame, like these sparkling animals, but 
much like those unctuous exhalations, which arise 
from the marshy ground, and often dance before the 
eyes of the benighted wayfaring man. Kindled into a 
sort of fire, they personate a guide, and seem to offer 
their service; but, blazing with delusive light, mis- 
lead their follower into hidden pits, headlong preci- 
pices, and unfathomable gulfs ; where, far from his 
beloved friends, far from all hopes of succour, the 
unhappy wanderer is swallowed up and lost. 

Not long ago, we observed a very surprising ap- 
pearance in the western sky ; a prodigious star took 
its flaming route through those coasts, and trailed, 
as it passed, a tremendous length of fire, almost over 
half the heavens. Some, I imagine, viewed the por- 
tentous stranger with much the same anxious amaze- 
ment as Belshazzar beheld the handwriting upon the 
■wall. Some looked upon it as a bloody flag, hung 
out by divine resentment over a guilty world. Some 
read, in its glaring visage, the fate of nations, and 
the fall of kingdoms. To others, it shook, or seemed 
to shake, pestilence and war from its horrid hair. 
For my part, I am not so superstitious as to regard 
what every astrologer has to prognosticate upon the 
accession of a comet, or the projection of its huge 
vapoury train. Nothing can be more precarious and 
unjustifiable, than to draw such conclusions from 
such events; since they neither are preternatural 
effects, nor do they throw the frame of things into 
any disorder. I would rather adore that Omnipotent 
Being, who rolled those stupendous orbs from his 
creating hand, and leads them, by his providentia 



ON THE NIGHT. 239 

eye, through immeasurable tracts of ether ; who bids 
them now approach the sun, and glow with unsuffer- 
able ardours ;* now retreat to the utmost bounds of 
our planetary system, and make their entry among 
other worlds. 

They are harmless visitants. I acquit them from 
the charge of causing, or being accessary to, deso- 
lating plagues. Would to God there were no other 
more formidable indications of approaching judg- 
ments, or impending ruin ! But, alas ! when vice 
becomes predominant, and irreligion almost epide- 
mical; when the sabbaths of a jealous God are no- 
toriously profaned : and that ' name, which is great, 
wonderful, and holy,' is prostituted to the meanest, 
or abused to the most execrable purposes ; when the 
worship of our great Creator and Preserver is ba- 
nished from many of the most conspicuous families ; 
and it is deemed a piece of rude impertinence, so 
much as to mention the gracious Redeemer in our 
genteel interviews ; when it passes for an elegant 
freedom of behaviour to ridicule the mysteries of 
Christianity, and a species of refined conversation to 
taint the air with lascivious hints ; when those, who 
sit in the scorner's chair, sin with a high hand, and 
many of those, who wear the professor's garb, are 
destitute of the power, and content themselves with 
the mere form of godliness ; when such is the state 
of a community, there is reason, too apparent reason, 

* 'The comet in the year 1680, according to Sir [saac 
Newton's computation, was, in its nearest approach, above a 
hundred and sixty-six limes nearer the sun than the earth is; 
consequently, its* heat was then twfiin-eijrht thousand times 
greater than that of summer; so (hat a ball of iron as big- as 
the earth, heated by it, would hardly become cool in lifty 
thousand years.'— Derh. Astr. Theoi. p. 2^7. 



240 CONTEMPLATIONS 

to be horribly afraid. Such phenomena, abounding 
in the moral world, are not fanciful but real omens. 
Will not an injured God « be avenged on such a nation 
as this ?' Will he not be provoked, to ' sweep it with 
the besom of destruction ?'* 

O ! that the inhabitants of Great Britain would lay 
these alarming considerations to heart ! The Lord of 
hosts has commanded the sword of civil discord to 
return into its sheath. But have we returned, every 
one from his evil ways ? Are we become a renewed 
people, devoted to a dying Saviour, and zealous of 
good works ? What mean those peals of sobs which 
burst from the expiring cattle ? What mean those 
melancholy moans, where the lusty droves were wont 
to low ?f What mean those arrows of untimely death, 
discharged on our innocent and useful animals ? 

No wantonness or sloth has vitiated the blood of 
these laborious, temperate creatures. They have con- 
tracted no disease from unseasonable indulgences and 
inordinate revellings. The pure stream is their drink, 
the simple herb their repast. Neither care disturbs 
their sleep, nor passion inflames their breast. Whence 
then are they visited with such terrible disorders, as 
no prudence can prevent, nor any medicines heal ? 

* Isia. xiv. 23. The Eternal Sovereign, speaking of Baby- 
on, denounces this threatening, ' I will sweep it with the 
iesom of destruction.' What a uoble but dreadful image is 
iere! How strongly and awfully pourtrayed ! How pregnant 
also in its signification ! intimatin? the vile nature, and ex- 
pressing the total extirpation of this wicked people : at Uie 
same time suggesting the perfect ease with which the righ- 
teous God would execute his intended vengeance. 

t If these papers should be >o happy as to outlive their au- 
thor, perhaps it may be needful to inform posterity, that the 
above-mentioned hints allude to a most terrible, contagions, 
and mortal distemper raging among the horned cattle, in 
various parts of the kingdom. 



ON THE NIGHT. 241 

Surely, these calamities are the weapons of divine 
displeastire, and manifest chastisements of an evil ge- 
neration. Surely God, the * God to whom vengeance 
belongeth,' has still a controversy with our sinful 
land. And who can tell where the visitation will end ? 
What a storm may follow these prelusive drops ! O ! 
that we may ' hear the rod, and who hath appointed 
it !' Taught by these penal effects of our disobedience, 
may we remove the accursed thing* from our tents, 
our practices, our hearts ! May we turn from all 
ungodliness, before wrath come upon us to the utter- 
most, before iniquity prove our ruin ! 

Sometimes, at this hour, another most remarkable 
sight amuses the curious, and alarms the vulgar. A 
blaze of lambent meteors is kindled, or some very 
extraordinary lights are refracted, in the quarters of 
the north. The streams of radiance, like legions 
rushing to the engagement, meet and mingle; inso- 
much that the air seems to be all conflicting fire. 
Within a while they start from one another, and, like 
legions in precipitate flight, sweep each a separate 
way through the firmament. Now they are quiescent ; 
anon they are thrown into a quivering motion ; pre- 
sently the whole horizon is illuminated with the 
glancing flames: sometimes, with an aspect awfully 
ludicrous, they represent extravagant and antic va- 
garies : at other times you would suspect that some 
invisible hand was playing off the dumb artillery of 
the skies, and, by a strange expedient, giving us the 
flash without the roar. 

The villagers gaze at the spectacle, first with won- 
der, then with horror. A general panic seizes the 
country. Every heart throbs, and every face is pale. 
* Josh. iv. is. 
22 



242 CONTEMPLATIONS 

The crowds that flock together, instead of diminish- 
ing, increase the dread. They catch contagion from 
each other's looks and words ; while fear is in every 
eye, and every tongue speaks the language of terror. 
Some see hideous shapes, armies mixing in fierce en- 
counter, or fields swimming with blood. Some foresee 
direful events, states overthrown, or mighty monarchs 
tottering on their thrones. Others, scared with still 
more frightful apprehensions, think of nothing but 
the day of doom. ' Sure,' says one, ' the unalterable 
hour is struck, and the end of all things come.' 
• See,' replies another, * how the blasted stars look 
wan ! Are not these the signs of the Son of Man 
coming in the clouds of heaven ?' « Jesus prepare us,' 
(cries a third, and lifts his eyes in devotion,) 'for 
the archangel's trump, and the great tribunal !' 

If this waving brightness, winch plays innocently 
over our heads, be so amazing to multitudes, what in- 
expressible consternation must overwhelm unthinking 
mortals when the general conflagration commences ! 
The day, the dreadful day, is approaching, ' in the 
wh'ch the heavens shall pass away with a great noise,* 
and the elements shall melt with fervent heat ; the 
earth also, and all the works that are therein, shall be 
burnt up.' That mighty hand, which once opened 
the windows from on high, and broke up the foun- 
tains of the great deep, will then unlock all the ma- 
gazines of fire, and pour a second deluge upon the 
earth. The vengeful fl°.mes, kindled by the breath 
of the Almighty, spread themselves from the centre 
to the circumference. Nothing can withstand their 
impetuosity, nothing can escape their rage. Universal 
desolation attends their progress. Magnificent pa- 
» 2 Pet. iii. 10. 



ON THE NIGHT. 243 

laces, and solemn temples, are laid in ashes; spacious 
cities, and impregnable towers, are mingled in one 
smoking mass. Not only the productions of human 
art, but the works of Almighty power, are fuel for 
the devouring element. The everlasting mountains 
melt, like the snows which cover their summit. Even 
vast oceans serve only to augment the inconceivable 
rapidity and fury of the blaze. O ! how shall I, or 
others, stand undismayed amidst the glare of a burn- 
ing world, unless the Lord Jehovah be our defence ? 
How shall we be upheld in security, when the globe 
itself is sinking in the fiery ruin ; unless the Rock of 
Ages be our support ? 

Behold ! a new spectacle of wonder ! The moon is 
making her entry on the eastern sky. See her rising 
in clouded majesty; opening, as it were, and asserting 
her original commission, to rule over the night. All 
grand and stately, but somewhat sullied is her aspect. 
However she brightens as she advances, and grows 
clearer as she climbs higher ; till, at length, her silver 
loses all its dross ; she unveils her peerless light, and 
becomes « the beauty of heaven, the glory of the 
stars ;'* delighting every eye, and cheering the whole 
world, with the brightness of her appearance and the 
softness of her splendours. O ! thou queen of the 
shades ! may it be my ambition to follow this thy 
instructive example ! While others are fond to trans- 
cribe the fashions of little courts, and to mimic per- 
sonages of inferior state ; be it mine to imitate thy 
improving purity ! May my conduct become moi e 
unblemished, and my temper more refined, as I pro- 
ceed farther and farther in my probationary course * 
May every sordid desire wear away, and every irre- 
* Ecchis. xliii. 9. 



244 CONTEMPLATIONS 

gular appetite be lost, as I make nearer approaches 
to the celestial mansions ! Will not this be a com- 
fortable evidence, that I too shall shine in my adored 
Redeemer's kingdom; shine, with a richer lustre, 
than that which radiates from they resplendent orb ; 
shine, with an unfading lustre, when every ray that 
beams from thy beauteous sphere is totally extin- 
guished ? 

The day afforded us a variety of entertaining sights. 
These were all withdrawn at the accession of dark- 
ness. The stars, kindly officious, immediately lent 
us their .\id. This served to alleviate the frown of 
night, ri'.ther than to recover the objects from their 
obscurity. A faint ray, scarcely reflected, and not 
fi-iT. 'he fr.'are surfice of things, gave the straining 
ey a very haperfect glimpse, such as rather mocked 
thar. satisfied vision. Now the moon is risen, and 
lias collected all her beams, the veil is taken off from 
the countenance of nature. I see the recumbent 
flocks f I see the green hedge-rows, though without 
the feathered choristers hopping from spray to spray. 
In short, I see once again the world's great picture : 
not indeed in its late lively colours, but more deli- 
cately shaded, and arrayed in softer charms.* 

What a majestic scene is here ! Incomparably grand 
and exquisitely fine ! — The moon, like an immense 
crystal lamp, pendent in the magnificent ceiling of 
the heavens ; the stars, like so many thousands of 
golden tapers, fixed in their azure sockets— all pour- 
ing their lustre on spacious cities and lofty mountains, 
glittering on the ocean, gleaming on the, forest, and 

» Now reigns 

Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light 
Shadowy wis ofl' Hie face of things. -Milton. 



ON THE NIGHT. 245 

opening a prospect, wide as the eye can glance, more 
various than fancy can paint.* We are forward to 
admire the performances of human art. A landscape, 
elegantly designed, and executed with a masterly 
hand; a piece of statuary, which seems, amidst all 
the recommendations of exact proportion and grace- 
ful attitude, to soften into flesh, and almost hreathe 
Kith life; these little imitations of nature we behold 
with a pleasing surprise. And shall we be less 
affected, less delighted, with the inexpressibly noble 
and completely finished original ? The ample di- 
mensions of Ranelagh's dome, the gay illuminations 
of Vauxhall grove, I should scorn to mention on 
such an occosion, were they not the objects of general 
admiration. Shall we be charmed with those puny 
essays of finite ingenuity, and touched with no 
transport at this stupendous display of omnipotent 
skill ? at the august grandeur and shining stateli- 
ness of the firmament, which forms an alcove for ten 
thousand worlds, and is ornamented with myriads of 
everlasting luminaries? Surely this must betray. 



As v 


lien 


the moo 


n, refulgent lam 


d of night. 




OVi 


1)L-U 


Vs c!e< 


r azure spreads 


.er sacred 


light 


Win 




t a breath di.-l 






Ami 




a cloud o 


'ereasts the solei 






Arc 


nd 1 


er thron 


2 the vivid plane 


ts roll, 




And 




unnuml 


er'd gi d the glo 


wing pole 




: 


the 


. 


es a vellower verdure shed, 




And 


tip with silvt 


r ev'ry mountain 


's head : 




The 




le the v 


les; the rocks ii 


prospect rise : 


A flood o 


' glory b 


irsts from all th 


b skies; 




The 








. 




Eve 


the blue \ault 


, and bless the ust 


id lii-liu- 


Iliad 



I transcribe wise Mr. Pope says, they exhibit, 

in the original, the finest night-piece in poeiry : and if they 
are so beautiful in Homer's language, who can suspect their 
suffering any disadvantage from tne pen of his admirable 
translator \ 



246 CONTEMPLATIONS 

not only a total want of religion, but the most abject 

littleness of mind and the utmost poverty of genius. 

The moon is not barely ' an ornament in the high 
places of the Lord,'* but of signal service to the in- 
habitants of the earth. How uncomfortable is deep, 
pitchy, total darkness! especially, in the long ab- 
sence of the winter's sun. Welcome therefore, thrice 
welcome, this auspicious gift of Providence, to en- 
liven the nocturnal gloom, and line with silver the 
raven-coloured mantle of night ! How desirable to 
have our summer-evenings illuminated ! that we may 
be able to tread the dewy meads, and breathe the 
delicious fragrance of our gardens; especially when 
the sultry heats render it irksome and fatiguing to 
walk abroad by day ! How cheering to the shep- 
herd the use of this universal lantern, as he tends his 
fleecy charge, or late consigns them to their hurdled 
cots! How comfortable and how advantageous to 
the mariner, as he ploughs the midnight main, to 
adjust the tackling, to explore his way, and, under 
the influence of this beaming sconce, to avoid the 
fatal rock ! For these and other beneficial purposes 
the hand of the Almighty has hung the stately branch 
on high; and filled it with a splendoui not confined 
to a single edifice, or commensurate to a particular 
square, but diffusive as the whole extent of the hemi- 
sphere. 

The most faithful of our inferior servants are some- 
times tardy in their office, sometimes negligent of 
their duty ; but this celestial attendant is most ex- 
actly punctual at all the stated periods of her minis- 
tration. If we choose to prolong our journey after 
the sun is gone down, the moon, during her whole 
increase, is always ready to act in the capacity of a 
« Ecclus. xliii. 9. 



ON THE NIGHT. 247 

guide. If we are inclined to set out very early in 
the morning, the moon, in her decrease, prevents the 
dawn, on purpose to offer her assistance ; and, because 
it is so pleasant a thing for the eyes to behold the 
light, the moon, at her full, by a course of uninter- 
mitted waiting, gives us, as it were, a double day. 
How apparently has the Divine Wisdom interested 
itself, in providing even for the pleasurable accom- 
modation of man ! how desirous, that he should want 
no piece of commodious furniture, no kind of de- 
lightful convenience ; and, in prosecution of these 
benevolent intentions, has annexed so valuable an 
appendage to the terrestrial globe ! Justly, there- 
fore, does the psalmist celebrate that admirable con- 
stitution, which ordained the moon and the stars to 
govern the night, as an instance of rich goodness and 
of mercy which endureth for ever.* 

The moon, it is confessed, is no luminous body. 
All the brightness which beautifies her countenance, 
is originally in the sun, and no more than transmis- 
sively in her. That glorious orb is the parent of 
day, and the palace of light. From thence the morn- 
ing-star gilds her horn, from thence the planetary 
circles are crowned with lustre, and from thence the 
moon derives all her silver radiance. It is pleasing 
to reflect, that such is the case with the all-sufficient 
Redeemer, and his dependent people. We are re- 
plenished from his fulness. What do we possess 
which we have not received, and what can we desire 
which we may not expect, from that never-failing 
Source of all good ? He is the author of our faith, 
and the former of our graces. In his unspotted life 
we see the path, in his meritorious death the price, 
* Psalm cxxxvi. 9. 



248 CONTEMPLATIONS 

and in his triumphant resurrection the proof of bliss 
and immortality. If we offend, and fall seven times 
a day, he is the Lord our Peace.* If we are de- 
praved, and our best deeds very unworthy, he is the 
Lord our Righteousness, f If we are blind, and even 
brutish in heavenly knowledge, he is the Lord our 
Wisdom : X his word dispels the shades, his Spirit 
scatters the intellectual gloom, his eye looks our 
darkness into day. In short, we are nothing, and 
« Christ is all.' Worse than defective in ourselves, 
• we are complete in him.' So that if we shine, it is 
with delegated rays, and with borrowed light. We 
act by a strength, and glory in merits not our own. 
O ! may we be thoroughly sensible of our depen- 
dence on the Saviour ! May we constantly imbibe 
his propitious beams, and never, by indulging unbe- 
lief, or backsliding into folly, withdraw our souls 
from his benign influences; lest we lose our comfort 
and our holiness, as the fair ruler of the night loses 
her splendour, when her urn is turned from its foun- 
tain^ and receives no more communications of solar 
effulgence. 

The rnoon is incessantly varying, either in her as- 
pect or her stages. Sometimes she looks full upon 
us, and her visage is all lustre; sometimes she ap- 
pears in profile, and shows us only half her enlight- 
ened face; anon a radiant crescent but just adorns 
her brow ; soon it dwindles into a slender streak ; till 
at length, all her beauties vanish, and she becomes a 

* Judg. vi. 23. + Jer. xxiii. 6. J I Cor. i. 30. 

§ Alluding to those truly poetical lines in Milton: 
tlier stars 
is draw lis-lit. 
Par. Lost, b. vii. I. 364 



ON THE NIGHT 249 

beamless orb. Sometimes she rises wi.h the descend- 
ing day, and begins her procession amidst admiring 
multitudes ; ere long, she defers her progress till the 
midnight watches, and steals unobserved upon the 
sleeping world. Sometimes she just enters the edges 
of the western horizon, and drops us a ceremonious 
visit; within a while, she sets out on her nightly 
tour, from the opposite regions of the east, traverses 
the whole hemisphere, and never offers to withdraw, 
till the more refulgent partner of her sway renders 
her presence unnecessary. In a word, she is, while 
conversant among us, still waxing or waning, and 
« never continueth in one stay.' 

Such is the moon, and such are all sublunary 
things, exposed to perpetual vicissitudes. How often 
and how soon have the faint echoes of renown slept 
in silence, or been converted into the clamours of 
obloquy ! The same lips, almost with the same 
breath, cry Hosanna, and Crucify. Have not riches 
confessed their notorious treachery a thousand and a 
thousand times ; either melting away, like snow in 
our hands, by insensible degrees, or escaping, like a 
winged prisoner from its cage, with a precipitate 
flight ? Have we not known the bridegroom's closet 
an antechamber to the tomb; and heard the voice, 
which so lately pronounced the sparkling pair hus- 
band and wife, proclaim an everlasting divorce, and 
Seal the decree with that solemn asseveration, ( Ashes 
«jo ashes, dust to dust?' Our friends, though the 
medicine of life; our health, though the balm of 
nature ; are a most precarious possession. How soon 
may the first become a corpse in our arms, and how 
easily is the last destroyed in its vigour ! You have 
seen, no doubt, a set of pretty painted birds, perch- 



250 CONTEMPLATIONS 

ing on your trees, or sporting in your meadows ; you 
were pleased with the lovely visitants, that brought 
beauty on their wings, and melody in their throats. 
But could you insure the continuance of this agree* 
able entertainment? No; truly. At the least dis- 
turbing noise, at the least terrifying appearance, thej 
start from their seats, they mount the skies, and am 
gone in an instant, are gone for ever. Would you 
choose to have a happiness which bears da|e with 
their arrival, and expires at their departure? W you 
could not be content with a portion, enjoyable only 
through such a fortuitous term, not of years, but of 
moments, O ! take up with nothing earthly, set your 
affections on things above : there alone is ' no varia- 
bleness or shadow of turning.' 

Job is not a more illustrious pattern of patience, 
than an eminent exemplification of this remark. 
View him in his private estate : He heaps up silver 
as the dust, he washes his steps in butter, and the 
rock pours him out rivers of oil. View him in his 
public character: princes revere his dignity, the 
aged listen to his wisdom, every eye beholds him 
with delight, every tongue loads him with blessings. 
View him in his domestic circumstances : On one 
hand, he is defended by a troop of sons, on the other 
adorned with a train of daughters, and on all sides 
surrounded by • a very great household.' Never was 
human felicity more consummate, never was disas- 
trous revolution so sudden. The lightning which 
consumed his cattle was not more terrible, and scarce 
more instantaneous. The joyful parent is bereft of 
his off-pring, and his ' children are buried in death;' 
the man of affluence is stript of his abundance, and 
he who was clothed in scarlet, embraces the dunghill. 



ON THE NIGHT. 251 

The venerable patriarch is the derision of scoundrels, 
and the late darling of an indulgent Providence is 
become ( a brother to dragons, a companion of owls.' 
Nor need we go back to former ages for proofs of 
this afflicting truth. In our times, in all times, the 
wheel continues the same incessant whirl ; and, fre- 
quently, those who are triumphing to-day in the 
highest elevations of joy, to-morrow are bemoaning 
the instability of mortal affairs in the very depth of 
miserai Amidst so much fluctuation and uncer- 
tainty, how wretched is the condition, which has no 
anchor of the soul, sure and stedfast. May thy 
loving-kindness, O God, be our present treasure, and 
thy future glory, our reversionary inheritance ! Then 
shall our happiness, not be like the full-orbed moon, 
which is * a light that decreaseth in its perfection,' 
but like the sun when he goeth forth in his strength, 
and knoweth no other change, but that of shining 
more and more unto the perfect day. 

Methinks, in this ever-varying sphere, I see a re- 
presentation, not only of our temporal advantages, 
but also of our spiritual accomplishments. Such. I 
am sure, is what the kind partiality of a friend would 
call my righteousness ; and such, I am apt to sus- 
pect, is the righteousness of every man living. Now 
we exercise it, in some few instances, in some little 
degrees ; anon sin revives, and leads our souls into 
a transient, though unwilling captivity. Now we 
are meek; but soon a ruffling accident intervenes, 
and turns our composure into a fretful disquietude. 
Now we are humble ; soon we reflect upon some in- 
considerable or imaginary superiority over others, 
and a sudden elatement swells our minds. Now, 
perhaps, we possess a clean heart, and are warm 



252 CONTEMPLATIONS 

with holy love; but O ! how easily is the purity of 
our affections sullied ; how soon the fervour of our 
gratitude cooled ! And is there not something amiss, 
even in our best moments ; something to be ashamed 
of, in all we are; something to be repented of, in all 
we do? 

With what gladness, therefore, and adoring thank- 
fulness, should we « submit to the righteousness of 
our incarnate God;' and receive, as a divine gift, 
what cannot be acquired by human works !* A 
writer of the first distinction and nicest discernment, 
styles the obedience of our glorious Surety, an ever- 
lasting righteousness ; f such as was subject to no 
interruption, nor obscured by the least blemish ; but 
proceeded always in the same uniform tenor of the 
most spotless perfection. This righteousness, in 
another sense, answers the prophet's exalted descrip- 
tion; as its beneficial and sovereign efficacy knows 
no end; but lasts through all our life, lasts in the 
trying hour of death, lasts at the decisive day of 
judgment, lasts through every generation, and will 
last to all eternity. 

Sometimes I have seen that resplendent globe stript 
of her radiance; or, according to the emphatical lan- 
guage of Scripture, « turned into blood.' The earth, 
interposing with its opaque body, intercepted the 
solar rays, and cast its own gloomy shadow on the 
moon. The malignant influence gained upon her 
sickening orb ; extinguished more and more the 
feeble remainders of light, till at length, like one in 
a deep swoon, no comeliness was left in her counte- 
nance; she was totally overspread with darkness. At 
this juncture, what a multitude of eyes were gazing 
* Rom. v. 17. x. 3. t Dan. ix. 24. 



ON THE NIGHT. 253 

upon the rueful spectacle ! even of those eyes which 
disregarded the empress of the night, or beheld her 
with indifference, when, robed in glory, and riding 
in her triumphal chariot, she shed a softer day through 
the nations. But now, under these circumstances of 
disgrace, they watch her motions with the most pry- 
ing attention. In every place, her misfortune is the 
object of general observation, and the prevailing topic 
of discourse in every company. 

Is it not thus, with regard to persons of eminence, 
in their respective spheres? Kings, at the head of 
their subjects; nobles, surrounded with their depen- 
dents ; and (after names of so much grandeur, may 
I be allowed to add?) ministers labouring among 
their people;* are each in a conspicuous station. 
Their conduct, in its minutest step, especially in any 
miscarriage, will be narrowly surveyed, and critically 
scanned. Can there be a louder call, to ponder the 
paths of their feet, and to be particularly jealous 
over all their ways ? Those who move in inferior 
life, may grossly offend, and little alarm be given, 
perhaps no notice taken ; but it is not to be expected, 
that the least slip in their carriage, the least flaw in 
their character, will pass undiscovered. Malice, with 
her eagle-eyes, will be sure to discern them; while 
censure, with her shrill trumpet, will be as far from 
concealing them, as calumny, with her treacherous 
whispers, from extenuating them. A planet may 
sink below the horizon ; or a star, for several months, 
withdraw its shining ; and scarce one in ten thousand 
perceive the loss ; but if the moon suffers a transient 
eclipse, almost half the world are spectators of her 
dishonour. 

* Ye are the light of the world. A citv that is set on a hill, 
cannot be hid. Matt. v. J4. 



254 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Very different was the case, when, at this late hour, 
I have taken a solitary walk on the western cliffs. 
At the foot of the steep mountain, the sea, all clear 
and smooth, spread itself into an immense plain, and 
held a watery mirror to the skies. Infinite heights 
above, the firmament stretched its azure expanse; 
bespangled with unnumbered stars, and adorned with 
the moon, « walking in brightness.'* She seemed to 
contemplate herself with a peculiar pleasure, while 
the transparent surface, both received, and returned 
her silver image. Here, instead of being covered 
with sackcloth, she shone with double lustre; or 
rather, with a lustre multiplied, in proportion to the 
number of beholders, and their various situations. 

Such, methhiks, is the effect of an exemplary be- 
haviour in persons of exalted rank. Their course, 
as it is nobly distinguished, so it will be happily in- 
fluential ; others will catch the diffusive ray, and be 
ambitious to resemble a pattern so attracting, so 
commanding. Their amiable qualities will not ter- 
minate in themselves, but we shall see them reflected 
from their families, their acquaintance, their re- 
tainers; just as we may now behold another moon, 
trembling in the stream, glittering in the canal, and 
displaying its lovely impress on every collection of 
waters. 

The moon, philosophy says, is a sort of sovereign 
over the great deep : her orb, like a royal sceptre, 
sways the ocean, and actuates the fluid realms ; it 
swells the tides, and perpetuates the reciprocal re- 
turns of ebb and flow ; by which means, the liquid 
element purges off its filth, and is preserved from 
being putrefied itself, and from poisoning the world. 
* Job xxxi. 26. 



ON THE NIGHT. 255 

Is the moon thus operative on the vast abyss ; and 
shall not the faith of eternal and infinite delights to 
come, be equally efficacious on this soul of mine ? 
Far above her argent fields are treasures of happiness, 
unseen by mortal eye, by mortal ear unheard, and 
unconceived by auy human imagination. In that 
desirable world, the most distinguished and exalted 
honours also are conferred ; in comparison with 
which, the thrones and diadems of earthly monarchs 
are empty pageants and childish toys. Yonder arch 
of sapphire, with all its spangles of gold, is but the 
floor of those divine abodes. What then are the 
apartments ; what is the palace ? How bright with 
glories ; how rich with bliss ! 

O ! ye mansions of blessedness; ye beauties of my 
Father's kindom, which far outshine these lamps 
of the visible heaven, transmit your sweet and win- 
ning invitations to my heart. Attract and refine all 
my affections ; withdraw them from stagnating on 
the sordid shores of flesh ; never suffer them to settle 
upon the impure lees of sense; but impress them 
with emotions of restless desires after sublime and 
celestial joys ; joys, that will proceed, still proceed 
in a copious and everlasting flow, when seas shall 
cease to roll ; joys, that will charm every faculty 
with unimaginable pleasure, when the moon, with 
her waxing splendours, shall cheer our sight no more. 

Enough for the present evening. My thoughts have 
been sufficiently exercised, and my steps begin to be 
attended with weariness. Let me obey the admo- 
nition of nature, and give respite to my meditations, 
slumber Jo my eyes. But stay. Shall I retire to the 
bed of sleep with as little ceremony, and with as 
much inattention, as the brutes to their sordid lair ? 
Are no acknowledgments due to that Divine Being, 



256 CONTEMPLATIONS 

who is the support of my life, and the length of my 
days ? Have I no farther need of his protecting care, 
no more occasion for the blessings of his goodness I 
Lepidus, perhaps, may laugh at the bended knee; 
and have a thousand darts of raillery ready to dis- 
charge on the practice of devotion. The wits, I 
know, are unmercifully severe on what they call the 
drudgery of prayer, and the fantastical rant of praise. 
These they leave to the illiterate labourer and the 
mean mechanic ; or treat them with a contemptuous 
sneer, as the parson's ignoble trade. 

Is it then an instance of superstitious blindness to 
distinguish, or of whimsical zeal, to celebrate, the 
most super-eminent excellency and merit ? Is it an 
ungraceful business, or does it argue a grovelling 
disposition, to magnify goodness transcendently rich 
and diffusive? What can be so truly becoming a 
dependent state, as to pay our adoring homage to 
the Author of all perfection, and profess our devoted 
allegiance to the supreme Almighty Governor of the 
universe? Can any thing more significantly bespeak 
an ingenious temper, or administer a more real 
satisfaction to its finest feelings, than the exercises 
of penitential devotion ; by which we give vent to 
an honest anguish, or melt into filial sorrow for our 
insensibility to the best of friends, for our disobe- 
dience to the best of parents ? In a word, can there 
be a more sublime pleasure than to dwell, in fixed 
contemplation, on the beauties of the Eternal Mind; 
the amiable original of all that is fair, grand, and 
harmonious ; the beneficent giver of all that is con- 
venient, comfortable, and useful ? Can there be a 
more advantageous employ than to present our re- 
quests to the Father of Mercies; opening our minds 
to the irradiations of his wisdom, and all the facul- 



ON THE NIGHT. 257 

ties of our souls to the communications of his grace ? 
— It is strange, unaccountably strange, that the no- 
tion of dignity in sentiment, and the pursuit of re- 
fined enjoyment, should ever be disunited from devo- 
tion ; that persons, who make pretensions to an im- 
proved taste and exalted genius, should neglect this 
most ennobling intercourse with the wisest and best 
of beings, the inexhaustible source of honour and 
joy. 

Shall I be deterred from approaching this source 
of the purest delight ? deterred from pursuing this 
highest improvement of my nature ? deterred from 
all by a formidable banter, or confuted by one irre- 
fragable smile ? No ; let the moon, in her resplendent 
sphere; and yonder pole, with all its starry train, 
witness, if I be silent even or morn ; if I refrain to 
kindle in my heart, and breathe from my lips, the 
reasonable incense of praise; praise to that great and 
glorious God, who formed the earth, and built the 
skies ; who poured from his hand the watery world 
and shed the all-surrounding air abroad — ' Thou also 
madest the night, Maker Omnipotent ! and Thou, 
the day ! which I, though less than the least of all 
thy mercies, have passed in safety, tranquillity, and 
comfort. When I was lost in the extravagance of 
dreams, or lay immersed in the insensibility of sleep ; 
thy hand recovered me from the temporary lethargy ; 
thy hand set a new, a delicately fine edge, on all my 
blunted senses; and strung my sinews with recruited 
vigour. When my thoughts were benumbed and 
stupified, thy quickening influence roused them into 
activity; when they were disconcerted and wild, thy 
regulating influence reduced them into order; re- 
fitting me at once to relish the innocent entertain- 
ments of an animal, and to enjoy the sublime grati- 
23* 



258 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

fications of a rational capacity. When darkness 
covered the creation, at thy command the sun arose; 
painted the flowers, and distinguished every object 
gave light to my feet, and gave nature, with all her 
beautiful scenes, to my eye. To Thee, O Thou God 
of my strength, I owe the continuance of my being, 
and the vivacity of my constitution. By thy sacred 
order, without any consciousness of mine, the wheels 
of life move, and the crimson fountain plays. Over- 
ruled by thy exquisite skill, it transforms itself by 
the nicest operations of an inexplicable kind of che- 
mistry, into a variety of the finest secretions, which 
glide into the muscles, and swell them for action ; or 
pour themselves into the fluids, and repair their in- 
cessant decays ; which cause cheerfulness to sparkle 
in the eye, and health to bloom in the cheek. 

• Disastrous accidents, injurious to the peace of 
my mind, or fatal to the welfare of my body, beset 
my paths ; but thy faithfulness and truth, like an 
impenetrable shield, guarded me all around. Under 
this divine protection, I walked secure amidst legions 
of apparent perils ; and passed unhurt through a far 
greater multiplicity of unseen evils. Not one of my 
bones was broken ; not a single shaft grazed upon my 
ease ; even when the eye that watched over me, saw, 
in its wide survey, thousands falling beside me in 
irrecoverable ruin, and ten thousands deeply wounded 
on my right hand. If sickness has at any time sad- 
dened my chamber, or pain harrowed my flesh, it was 
a wholesome discipline and a gracious severity ; the 
chastisement proved a sovereign medicine to cure me 
of an immoderate fondness for this imperfect trouble- 
some state, and to quicken my desires after the un- 
embittered enjoyments of my eternal home. Has not 
thy munificence, unwearied and unbounded, spread 



ON THE NIGHT. 259 

my table; and furnished it with the finest wheat, re- 
plenished it with marrow and fatness; while tem- 
perance sweetened the bowl, appetite seasoned the 
dish, contentment and gratitude crowned the repast ? 
Has not thy kindness, O God of the families of Israel, 
preserved my affectionate relations; who study, by 
their tender offices, to soften every care, and heighten 
every joy ? Has not thy kindness given me valuable 
friends, whose presence is a cordial to cheer me in a 
dejected hour, and whose conversation mingles im- 
provement with delight ? 

« When sin lay disguised amidst flowery scenes of 
pleasure; enlightened by thy wisdom, I discerned 
the latent mischief; made resolute by thy grace, I 
shunned the luscious bane. If, through the impulse 
of sensuality or the violence of passion, I have been 
hurried into the snare, and stung by the serpent; thy 
faithful admonitions have recalled the foolish wan- 
derer, while the blood of thy Son has healed his 
deadly wounds. Some, no doubt, have been cut off 
in the midst of their iniquities ; and transmitted, 
from the thrillings of polluted joy, to the agonies of 
eternal despair: whereas I have been distinguished 
by long-suffering mercy; and, instead of lifting up 
my eyes in torments, to behold a heaven irrecoverably 
lost; I may lift them up under the pleasing views of 
being admitted, ere long, into those abodes of end- 
less felicity. In the mean time thou hast vouchsafed 
me the revelation of thy will, the influences of thy 
Spirit, and abundance of the most effectual aids for 
advancing in knowledge and growing in godliness ; 
for becoming more conformable to thy image, and 
more meet for thy presence ; for tasting the pleasure* 
of religion, and securing the riches of eternity. 

■ How various is thy beneficence, O thou lover of 



260 CONTEMPLATIONS, &c. 

souls! It has unsealed a thousand sources of good; 
opened a thousand avenues of delight; and heaped 
blessings upon me with a ceaseless liberality. If I 
should attempt to declare them, they would be more 
than the starry host which glitter in this unclouded 
sky ; more than the dewy gems which will adorn the 
face of the morning. 

* And shall I forget the God of my salvation, the 
Author of all my mercies? Rather let my pulse for- 
get to beat ! Shall I render him no expressions of 
thankfulness ? Then might all nature reproach my 
ingratitude. Shall I rest satisfied with the bare ac- 
knowledgment of my lips ? No ; let my life be vocal, 
and speak his praise, in that only genuine, that most 
emphatical language— the language of devout obe- 
dience. Let the bill be drawn upon my very heart ; 
let all my affections acknowledge the draft ; and 
let the whole tenor of my actions, in time and through 
eternity, be continually paying the debt, the ever- 
pleasing, ever-growing debt of duty, veneration, and 
loTe. 

• And can I, O thou Guide of my goings, and 
Guardian of all my interests, can I distrust such 
signal, such experienced goodness ? Thou hast been 
my helper through all the busy scenes of day ; there- 
fore under the shadow of thy wings will I repose my- 
self during the darkness, the danger, and death-like 
inactivity of the night. Whatever defilement I have 
contracted, wash it thoroughly away in redeeming 
blood ; and let neither the sinful stain, nor the sinful 
inclination, accompany me to my couch ! Then shall 
I lay me down in peace, and take my rest ; cheerfully 
referring it to thy all-wise determination, whether I 
shall open my eyes in this world, or awake in the un- 
known regions of another.' 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 



This evening I exchange the nice retreats of art for 
the noble theatre of nature. Instead of measuring 
my steps under the covert of an arbour, let me range 
along the summit of this gently rising hill. There is 
no need of the leafy shade, since the sun has quitted 
the horizon, and withdrawn his scorching beams. 
But see, how advantages and inconveniences are 
usually linked, and chequer our affairs below ! If the 
annoying heart ceases, the landscape and its pleasing 
scenes are also removed. The majestic castle and the 
lowly cottage are vanished together. I have lost the 
aspiring mountain and its russet brow; I look round, 
but to no purpose, for the humble vale and its flowery 
lap. The plains whitened with flocks, and the heath 
yellow with furze, disappear. The advancing night 
has wrapt in darkness the long extended forest ; and 
drawn her mantle over the windings of the silver 
stream. I no longer behold that luxuriant fertility 
in the fields, that wild magnificence of prospect, and 
endless variety of images, which have so often touched 
me with delight, and struck me with awe, from this 
commanding eminence. 
The loss, however, is scarcely to be regretted, since 



262 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

it is amply compensated by the opening beauties of 
the sky. Here I enjoy a free view of the whole hemi- 
sphere, without any obstacle from below, to confine 
the exploring eye ; or any cloud from above, to over- 
cast the spacious concave. 'Tis true, the lively ver- 
milion, which so lately streaked the chambers of the 
west, is all faded ; but the planets, one after another, 
light up their lamps ; the stars advance in their glit- 
tering train ; a thousand and a thousand luminaries 
shine forth in successive splendours, and the whole 
firmament is kindled into the most beautiful glow. 
The blueness of the ether, heightened by the season of 
the year, and still more enlivened by the absence of 
the moon, give those gems of heaven the strongest 
lustre. 

One pleasure more the invading gloom has not been 
able to snatch from my sense ; the night rather im- 
proves than destroys the fragrance which exhales from 
the blooming beans; with these the sides of this 
sloping declivity are lined ; and with these the balmy 
zephyrs perfume their wings. Does Arabia, from her 
spicy groves, breathe a more liberal or a more charm- 
ing gale of sweets ? And what is a peculiar recom- 
mendation of the rural entertainments presented in 
our happy land, they are alloyed by no apprehensions 
of danger. No poisonous serpent lurks under the 
blossom; nor any ravenous beast lies ready to start 
from the thicket.— But I wander from a far more ex- 
alted subject. My thoughts, like my affections, are 
too easily diverted from the heavens, and detained by 
inferior objects. Away, my attention, from these 
little blandishments of the earth, since all the glories 
of the sky invite thy regard. 

We have taken a turn among the tombs, and 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 263 

viewed the solemn memorials of the dead, in order 
to learn the vanity of mortal things, and to break 
their soft enchantment. We have surveyed the or- 
naments of the garden ; not that the heart might be 
planted in the parterre, or take root among the flow- 
ery race; but that these delicacies of a day might 
teach us to aspire after a better paradise, where 
beauty never fades, and delight is ever in the bloom. 
A third time we lighted the candle of meditation, 
and sought for wisdom, not in the crowded city or 
wrangling schools ; but in the silent and lonely walks 
of ancient night.* Let us once more indulge the 
contemplative vein, and raise our speculations to 
those sublimer works of the great Creator, which the 
regions of the sky contain, and this dusky hour un- 
veils, f 

If we have discerned the touches of his pencil, glow- 
ing in the colours of spring ; if we have seen a sample 
of his beneficence, exhibited in the stores of nature ; 
and a ray of his brightness, beaming in the blaze of 
day ; what an infinitely richer field for the display of 
his perfections are the heavens ! The heavens, in the 
most emphatical manner, declare the glory of God. 
The heavens, are nobly eloquent of the Deity, and 
the most magnificent heralds of their Maker's praise. 
They speak to the whole universe ; for there is nei- 
ther speech so barbarous, but their language is under- 
stood; nor nation so distant, but their voices are 
heard among them4 Let me then, in this solemn 

* Refering to the several subjects of the three preceding 
essays. 

+ Night opes the noblest scenes, and sheds an awe 
Which gives those venerable scenes full weight, 
And deep reception in the entender'd heart. 

Night Thoughts, N. Is. 
I Pal. xix. 3. 



264 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

season, formed for thought, and a calm intercourse 
with heaven; let me listen to their silent lectures: 
perhaps I may receive such impressive manifestations 
of ' the Eternal Power and Godhead,' as may shed 
religion on my soul, while I walk the solitary shades; 
and may be a tutelary friend to my virtue, when the 
call of business, and the return of light, expose me 
again to the inroads of temptation. 

The Israelites, instigated by frenzy rather than 
devotion, worshipped the host of heaven ; and the 
pretenders to judicial astrology talk of, I know not 
what, mysterious efficacy in the different aspect of 
the stars, or the various conjunction and opposition 
of the planets. Let those who are unacquainted with 
the sure word of revelation, give ear to these sons of 
delusion and dealers in deceit : for my part, it is a 
Question of indifference to me, whether the constella- 
tions shone with smiles, or lowered in frowns, on 
the hour of my nativity. Let Christ be my guard, 
and, secure in such a protection, I would laugh at 
their impotent menaces. Let Christ be my guide, 
and I shall scorn to ask, as well as despair of receiv- 
ing, any predictory information from such sense- 
less masses. What! shall 'the living seek to the 
dead?'* Can these bodies advertise me of future 
events, which are unconscious of their own exist- 
ence? Shall I have recourse to dull unintelligent 
matter, when I may apply to that all-wise Being, who, 
with one comprehensive glance, distinctly views what- 
ever is lodged in the bosom of immensity, or forming 
in the womb of futurity ? Never, never, will I search 
for any intimations of my fate, but often trace my 

* Isa. viii. 19. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 265 

Creator's footsteps* in yonder starry plains. In the 
former case, they would be teachers of lies; in the 
latter, they are oracles of truth. In this, therefore, 
this sense only, I profess myself the pupil of the 
stars. 

The vulgar are apprehensive of nothing more than 
a multitude of bright spangles, dropped over the 
ethereal blue. They have no higher notion of these 
fine appearances, than that they are so many golden 
studs, with which the empyrean arch is decorated. 
But studious minds, that carry a more accurate and 
strict inquiry among the celestial bodies, bring back 
advices of a most astonishing import. Let me just 
recollect the most material of those stupendous dis- 
coveries, in order to furnish out proper subjects for 
contemplation. And let the unlearned remember, 
that the scene I am going to display, is the work- 
manship of that incomprehensible God, who is ' per- 
fect in knowledge, and mighty in power ;' whose 

t ' It is most becoming (says a great author) such imperfect 
creatures as we are, to contemplate the works of God with 
this design, that we may discern the manifestations of wisdom 
in them, and thereby excite in ourselves those devout affec- 
tions, and that superlative respect, which is the very essence 
of praise, as it is a reasonable and moral service.' Aberuethy 
on the Attributes. — And, indeed, if we are sincerely disposed 
to employ ourselves in this excellent, this delightful duty of 
praising the infinite Creator, the means and the motives are 
Doth at hand. His works, in a wonderful and instructive va- 
riety, present themselves with pregnant manifestations of the 
most transcendent excellencies of their Maker. They pour 
their evidence from all quarters, and into all the avenues ot 
the mind. They invite us, especially, in the magnificent system 
of the universe, to contemplate— counsel, consummately wise; 
and execution, inimitably perfect; power to which nothing is 
impossible; and goodness, which extendeth to all, which da- 
dureth for ever.— To give, not a full display, but only some 
slight strictures of these glorious truths, is the principal scope 
of the following remarks. 



266 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

name, whose nature, and all whose operations, are 
« great and marvellous;' who summons into being, 
with equal ease, a single grain or ten thousand worlds. 
Tothisif we continually advert, the assertions, though 
they will certainly excite our admiration, need not 
transcend our belief. 

The earth is, in fact, a round body, however it 
may seem in some parts to be sunk into vales, and 
raised into hills;* in other parts, to be spread into 
a spacious plain, extending to the confines of the 
heavens, or terminated by the waters of the ocean. 
We may fancy, that it has deep foundations, and 
rests upon some prodigiously solid basis. But it is 
pendent in the wide transpicuous ether, without any 
visible cause to uphold it from above, or support it 
from beneath. It may seem to be sedentary in its 
attitude, and motionless in its situation; but it is 
continually sailing f through the depths of the sky, 
and in the space of twelve months finishes the mighty 
voyage : which periodical rotation produces the sea- 
sons, and completes the year. As it proceeds in the 

* A learned writer, I think Dr. Derliam, has somewhere 
an observation 10 this purpose: 'That the loftiest summits of 
hills, and the most enormous ridges of mountains, are no real 
objection to the globular or round form of the earth ; because, 
howe\er they may render it to our limited sight, vastly uneven 
and protuberant, yet they bear no more proportion to the 
entire surface of tfie terraqueous ball, than a particle of dust, 
casually dropped on the mathematician's globe bears to its 
whole circumference ; consequently, the rotund figure is no 
more destroyed in the former case, than in the latter. On the 
same principle I have not thought it necessary to take any 
notice of the comparatively small difference between the po- 
lar and equatorial diameter of the earth. 

+ With what amazing speed this vessel (if I mav carry on 
the allusion), filled with a multitude of nations, and freighted 
with all their possessions, makes her way through the ethe- 
real space. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 267 

aunual circuit, it spins upon its own centre, and turns 
its sides alternately to the fountain of light : by which 
means the day dawns in one hemisphere while the 
night succeeds in the other. Without this expedient, 
one part of its regions would, during half the great 
revolution, be scorched with excessive heat, or lan- 
guish under an unintermitted glare ; while the other, 
exposed to the contrary extremes, would be frozen 
to ice, and buried under a long oppression of dismal 
and destructive darkness. 

I cannot forbear taking notice, that in this com- 
pound motion of the earth, the one never interferes 
with the other, but both are perfectly compatible. 
It is not thus with the precepts of religion, and the 
needful affairs of the present life, not excepting even 
the innocent gratifications of our appetites? Some, 
I believe, are apt to imagine, that they must renounce 
society if they devote themselves to Christ; and 
abandon all the satisfactions of this world, if they 
once become zealous candidates for the felicity of 
another. But this is a very mistaken notion, or else 
a very injurious representation, of the doctrine which 
is according to godliness. It was never intended to 
drive men into deserts, but to lead them through the 
peaceful and pleasant paths of wisdom, into the bliss- 
ful regions of life eternal. It was never intended to 
strike off the wheels of busiuess, or cut in sunder the 
sinews of industry ; but rather to make men indus- 
trious from a principle of conscience, not from the 
instigations of avarice; that so they may promote 
their immortal happiness, even while they provide 
for their temporal maintenance. It has no design to 
extirpate our passions, but only to restrain their ir- 
regularities ; neither would it extinguish the de- 



268 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

lights of sense, but prevent them from evaporating 
into vanity, and subsiding into gall. A person may 
be cheerful among his friends, and yet joyful in God. 
He may taste the sweets of his earthly estate, and at 
the same time cherish his hopes of a nobler inherit- 
ance in heaven. The trader may prosecute the de- 
mands of commerce, without neglecting to negotiate 
the affairs of his salvation. The warrior may wear his 
sword, may draw in a just cause that murderous wea- 
pon, yet be a good soldier of Jesus Christ, and obtain 
the crown that fadeth not away. The parent may 
lay up a competent portion for his children, and not 
forfeit his title to the treasures either of grace or 
of glory. So far is Christianity from obstructing 
any valuable interest, or withholding any real plea- 
sure, that it improves the one, and advances the 
other: just as the diurnal and annual motions are 
so far from clashing, that they entirely accord ; and, 
instead of being destructive of each other, by mutu- 
ally blending their effects, they give proportion and 
harmony to time, fertility and innumerable benefits 
to nature. 

To us, who dwell on its surface, the earth is by far 
the most extensive orb that our eyes can any where 
behold. It is also clothed with verdure, distinguished 
by trees, and adorned with a variety of beautiful 
decorations. Whereas to a spectator placed on one 
of the planets, it wears an uniform aspect, looks all 
luminous, and no larger than a spot ; to beings, who 
dwell at still greater distances, it entirely disappears. 
That which we call, alternately, the morning and 
evening star ; as in one part of her orbit she rides 
foremost in the procession of night ; in the other, 
ushers in and anticipates the dawn ; is a planetary 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 269 

world; which, with the four others, that so wonder- 
fully vary their mystic dance, are in themselves dark 
bodies, and shine only by reflection ; have fields, and 
seas, and skies of their own ; are furnished with all 
accommodations for animal subsistence, and are sup- 
posed to be the abodes of intellectual life : all which, 
together with this our earthly habitation, are depen- 
dent on that grand dispenser of divine munificence, 
the sun ; receive their light from the distribution of 
his rays, and derive their comforts from his benign 
agency. 

The sun, which seems to perform its daily stages 
through the sky, is, in this respect,* fixed and im- 
movable. 'Tis the great axle of heaven, about 
which the globe we inhabit, and other more spacious 
orbs, wheel their stated courses. The sun, though 
seemingly smaller than the dial it illuminates, is 
abundantly larger f than the whole earth ; on which 
so many lofty moutains rise, and such vast oceans 
roll. A line extending from side to side, through the 
centre of that resplendent orb, would measure more 
than eight hundred thousand miles ; a girdle, formed 
to go round its circumference, would require a length 
of millions : were its solid contents to be estimated, 
the account would overwhelm our understanding, 
and be almost beyond the power of language to ex- 
press.^: Are we startled at these reports of philo- 

* I say, in tliis respect, that I may not seem to forget or 
exclude the revolution of the sun round its own a\is. 

+ A hundred thousand times, according: to the lowest reckon- 
ing. Sir Isaac Newton computes the sun to be floo.ooo times 
bijfg-er than the earth.— Religious Philosopher, p. 749. 



270 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

sophy ? Are we ready to cry out, in a transport of 
surprise: 'How mighty is the Being who kindled 
such a prodigious fire, and keeps alive, from age to 
age, such an enormous mass of flame !' Let us at- 
tend our philosophic guides, and we shall be brought 
acquainted with speculations more enlarged and more 
amazing. 

This sun, with all its attendant planets, is but a 
very little part of the grand machine of the universe. 
Every star, though in appearance no bigger than the 
diamond that glitters upon a lady's ring, is really a 
vast globe, like the sun in size and glory ; no less 
spacious, no less luminous, than the radiant source 
of our day; so that every star is not barely a world, 
but the centre of a magnificent system ; has a retinue 
of worlds, irradiated by its beams, and revolving 
round its attractive influence ; all which are lost to 
our sight, is unmeasurable wilds of ether. That the 
stars appear like so many diminutive and scarce dis- 
tinguishable points, is owing to their immense and 
inconceivable distance. Immense and inconceivable 
indeed it is; since a ball, shot from the loaded 
cannon, and flying with unabated rapidity, must 
travel, at this impetuous rate, almost seven hundred 
thousand years,* before it could reach the nearest of 
those twinkling luminaries. 

Can any thing be more wonderful than these ob- 
servations ? Yes; there are truths far more stupen- 
dous; there are scenes far more extensive. As there 
is no end of the Almighty Maker's greatness, so no 

plauets about it, so doth it far surpass them all in its hulk ; 
its apparent diameter being computed at 822,Hb EnffliM 
miles, its ambit at 2,582,873 miles, and its solid content* at 
290,97 1,000,000,000,000.' —Astro. Thcol. book I. chap. ii. 
* See Religious Philosopher, p. (>I9. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 271 

imagination can set limits to his creating hand. Could 
you soar beyond the moon, and pass through all the 
planetary choir; could you wing your way to the 
highest apparent star, and take your stand on one 
of those loftiest pinnacles of heaven ; you would, 
there, see other skies expanded; another sun, dis- 
tributing his inexhaustible beams by day ; othrr 
stars, that gild the horrors of the alternate night- 
and other,* perhaps nobler systems, established; 
established, in unknown profusion, through the 
boundless dimensions of space. Nor does the do- 
minion of the universal Sovereign terminate there. 
Even at the end of this vast tour, you would find 
yourself advanced no farther than the suburbs of 
creation, arrived only at the frontiers of the grea* 
Jehovah's kingdom. 

And do they tell me, that the sun, the moon, and 
all the planets, are but a little part of his works ? 
How great, then, are his signs ! and how mighty are 
his wonders !f And if so, what is the Creator him- 
self? how far exalted above all praise ! who is so high, 
that he looks down on the highest of these dazzling 
spheres, and sees even the summit of creation in a 
vale : so great, that this prodigious extent of space is 
but a point in his presence ; and all this confluence 
of worlds as the lightest atom that fluctuates in air, 
and sports in the meridian ray. 

Thou most sublime and incomprehensibly glorious 

* See Astro- Theology, book ii. chap, ii.— Where the author, 
havins: assigned various reasons to support this theory of our 
modern astronomers, adds: • Besides the fore-mentioned strong 
probabilities, we have this farther recommendation of such 
an account of the universe, that it is far more magnificent, 
and worthy of the infinite Creator, than any other of the nar- 
rower schemes. 

t Dan. iv. 3. 



272 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

God, how am I overwhelmed with awe; how sunk 
into the lowest prostration of mind ; when I consider 
thy 'excellent greatness,' and my own utter insigni- 
ficancy ! And have I, excessively mean as I am, have 
I entertained any conceited apprehensions of myself? 
Have I felt the least elatement of thought in the 
presence of so majestic and adorable a Being ? How 
should this wound me with sorrow, and cover me 
with confusion ! O my God, was I possessed of all 
the high perfections which accomplish and adorn the 
angels of light; amidst all these nobler endowments, 
I would fall down in the deepest abasement at thy 
feet. Lost in the infinitely superior blaze of thy un- 
created glories, I would confess myself to be nothing, 
to be less than nothing, and vanity. How much more 
ought I to maintain the most unfeigned humiliation, 
before thy divine Majesty, who am not only dust 
and ashes, but a compound of ignorance, imperfec- 
tion, and depravity ! 

While beholding that vast expanse, I learn my own 
extreme meanness ; I would also discover the abject 
littleness of all terrestrial things. What is the earth, 
with all her ostentatious scenes, compared with this 
astonishingly grand furniture of the skies ? What, 
but a dim speck, hardly perceivable in the map of the 
universe ? It is observed by a very judicious writer,* 
that if the sun himself, which enlightens this part of 
the creation, was extinguished, and all the host of 
planetary worlds which move about him were anni- 
hilated, they would not be missed by an eye that can 
take in the whole compass of nature, any more than 
a grain of sand upon the sea-shore. The bulk of 
which they consist, and the space which they occupy, 
• Spec. Tol. viii. No. 505. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 273 

is so exceedingly little in comparison of the whole, 
that their loss would scarce leave a blank in the im« 
mensity of God's works. If then, not our globe only, 
but this whole system, be so very diminutive, what is 
a kingdom or a country ? what are a few lordships, 
or the so much admired patrimonies of those who are 
styled wealthy !* When I measure them with my own 
little pittance, they swell into proud and bloated di- 
mensions ; but when I take the universe for my 
standard, how scanty is their size, how contemptible 
their figure ! They shrink into pompous nothings, j 
When the keen-eyed eagle soars above all the fea- 
thered race, and leaves their very sight below ; when 
she wings her way with direct ascent, up the steep 
of heaven, and steadily gazing on the meridian sun, 
accounts its beaming splendours all her own; does 
she then regard, with any solicitude, the mote that is 
flying in the air, or the dust which she shook from 
her feet ? And shall this eternal mind, which is ca- 
pable of contemplating its Creator's glory ; which is 
intended to enjoy the visions of his countenance; 
shall this eternal mind, endued with such great capa- 
cities, and made for such exalted ends, be so ignobly 
ambitious as to sigh for the tinsels of state; or so 
poorly covetous, as to grasp after ample territories on 
a needle's point? No! under the influence of such 
considerations I feel my sentiments expand, and my 
wishes acquire a turn of sublimity. My throbbing 
desires after worldly grandeur die away ; and I find 
myself, if not possessed of power, yet superior to its 
charms. Too long, must 1 own, have my affections 

* Juvat inter sidera vagantem divitum pavirnenta ridere, et 
totam cum aurn s'.io terrain.— Sen. 

r Terrell* graadra inania.— WalC Hot. Lyr. 



274 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

been pinioned by vanity, and immured in this earthly 
clod. But these thoughts break the shackles. These 
objects open the door of liberty. My soul, fired by 
such noble prospects, weighs anchor from this little 
nook, and coasts no longer about its contracted shores, 
doats no longer on its painted shells. The immensity 
of things is her range, and an infinity of bliss is her 
aim. 

Behold this immense expanse, and admire the con- 
descension of thy God. In this manner, an inspired 
and princely astronomer approved his survey of the 
nocturnal heavens. When I consider thy heavens, 
even the works of thy fingers, the moon and the stars 
which thou hast ordained : I am smitten with wonder 
at thy glory, and cry out in a transport of gratitude, 
' Lord, what is man that thou art mindful of him, or 
the son of man, that thou visitest him?'* 'How 
amazing, how charming, is that divine benignity, 
which is pleased to bow its sacred regards to so foolish 
and worthless a creature ? yea, disdains not, from the 
height of infinite exaltation, to extend its kind pro- 
vidential care, to our most minute concerns ! This is 
amazing; but that the Everlasting Sovereign should 
give his Son, to be made flesh, and become our Sa- 
viour ! Shall I call it a miracle of condescending 
goodness ? rather, what are all miracles, what are all 
mysteries, to this ineffable gift ?' 

Had the brightest archangel been commissioned 
to come down with the olive branch of peace in his 
hand, signifying his Eternal Maker's readiness to be 
reconciled; on our bended knees, with tears of joy, 
and a torrent of thankfulness, we ought to have re- 
ceived the transporting news ; but when, instead of 
» Paal. rib. 3, -u 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 275 

such an angelic envoy, he sends his only-begotten Son, 
his Son beyond all thought illustrious, to make us the 
gracious overture; sends hrm from the " habitation 
of his holiness and glory,' to put on the iufirmities of 
mortality, and dwell in a tabernacle of clay ; sends 
him, not barely to make us a transient visit, but to 
abide many years in our inferior and miserable world ; 
sends him, not to exercise dominion over monarchs, 
but to wear out his life in the ignoble form of a ser- 
vant ; and at last, to make his exit under the infamous 
character of a malefactor ! Was ever love like this ? 
Did ever grace stoop so low ?* Should the sun be 
shorn of all his radiant honours, and degraded into a 
clod of the valleys ; should all the dignitaries of hea- 
ven be deposed from their thrones, and degenerate 

* This reminds me of a very noble piece of sacred oratory, 
where, in a fine series of the'most beautiful gradations, the 
apostle displays the admirably c ndness of our 

Saviour. He thought it no 'robbery, it was his indisputable 
right, to be equal with the infinite self-existent, immortal 
God ; yet, in mercy to sinners, he emptied himself of the in- 
communicable honours, and laid aside the robes of incompre- 
hensible glory. When he entered upon his mediatorial state, 
instead of acting in the grand capacity of universal sovereign, 
he took upon him the form of a servant ; and not the form of 
those ministering spirits whose duty is dignity itself; who are 
throned, though adoring. He took not on him the nature of 
angels, but stooped, incomparably lower ; assumed a body of 
animated dust, and was made in the likeness of men, those 
inferior and depraved creatures. Astonishing condescension ! 
but not sufficient for the overflowing richness of the Re 
deemer's love ; for being found in fashion as a man, he hum- 
bled himself farther still ; occupied the lowest place, where 
all was low and ignoble. He not only submitted to the yoke 
of the law, but also bore the infirmities, and ministered to 
the necessities of mortals. He even washed the feet of 
others, and had not where to lay his own head. Yea, he 
carried his meritorious humiliation to the very deepest degrees 
of possible abasement. He became obedient unto death ; and 
not to a common or natural death, but a death more infamous 
than the gibbet, more torturous than the rack • even the ac- 
cursed death of the cross. Phil. ii. 6—8 



276 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

into insects of a day ; great, great would be the abase* 
rnent ; but nothing to thine, most blessed Jesus ; 
nothing to thine, thou Prince of Peace ; when for us 
men and for our salvation, thou didst not abhor the 
coarse accommodations of the manager, thou didst 
not decline even the gloomy horrors of the grave. 

'Tis well the sacred oracles have given this doctrine 
the most explicit confirmation, and evidence quite 
incontestable, otherwise a favour so undeserved, so 
unexpected, and rich beyond all imagination, might 
stagger our belief. Could He, who launches all these 
planetary globes through the illimitable void, and 
leads them on, from age to age, in their extensive 
career ; could he resign his hands, to be confined by 
the girding cord, and his back to be ploughed by the 
bloody scourge ? Could He, who crowns all the stars 
with inextinguishable brightness, be himself defiled 
with spitting, and disfigured with the thorny scar ? 
It is the greatest of wonders, and yet the surest of 
truths. 

O ! ye mighty orbs, that roll along the spaces of 
the sky ; I wondered, a little while ago, at your vast 
dimensions, and ample circuit. But now my amaze- 
ment ceases; or rather, it is entirely swallowed up 
by a much more stupendous subject. Methinks, your 
enormous bulk is shrivelled to an atom ; your prodi- 
gious revolutions are contracted to a span ; while I 
muse upon the far more elevated heights and un- 
fathomable depths, the infinitely more extended 
lengths, and unlimited breadths, of this love of God 
in Christ Jesus.* 

Contemplating this stately expanse, I see a mirror, 

which represents, in the most awful colours, the 

• Eph. iii. 16, 19. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 277 

heinousness of human guilt. Ten thousand volumes, 
wrote on purpose to display the aggravations of my 
various acts of disobedience, could not so effectually 
convince me of their inconceivable enormity, as the 
consideration of that all-glorious Person; who, to 
make an atonement for them, spilt the last drop of 
his blood. I have sinned, may every child of Adam 
say ; and what shall I do unto thee, O thou Observer 
of men ?* Shall I give my first-born for my trans- 
gression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul ? 
Vain commutation ! and such as would be rejected 
by the blessed God with the utmost abhorrence. Will 
all the potentates, that sway the sceptre in a thou- 
sand kingdoms, devote their royal and honoured lives, 
to rescue an obnoxious creature from the stroke of 
vengeance? Alas! it must cost more, incomparably 
more, to expiate the malignity of sin, and save a 
guilty wretch from hell. "Will all the principalities 
of heaven be content to assume my nature, and re- 
sign themselves to death for my pardon ?f Even 

* Job -vii. 20. 

•t Milton sets this thought in a very poetical and striking 
light. All tlie sanctities of heaven stand round the throne of 
the Supreme Majesty. God foresees and foretels the fall of 
man; the ruin which will una^idably ensue ( 



He, with his whole posterity, must die : 

Die he or justice must : unless for him 

Some other able, and as willing', pay 

The rigid satisfaction, death for dea'th. 
After which affecting representation, intended to raise the most 
tender emotions of pity, the following inquiry is addressed to 
ail the surrounding angels : 

Say, heavenly powers, where shall we find such love! 

Which of you will be mortal, to redeem 

Man's mortal crime ! and die, the dead to save! 



278 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

this would be too mean a satisfaction for inexorable 
justice ; too scanty a reparation of God's injured ho- 
nour. So flagrant is human guilt, that nothing but a 
victim of infinite dignity could constitute an adequate 
propitiation. He who said, ' Let there be light, and 
there was light;' Let there be a firmament, and im*. 
mediately the blue curtains floated in the sky ; he 
must take flesh; he must feel the fierce torments of 
crucifixion ; and pour out his soul in agonies, if ever 
such transgressors are pardoned. 

How vast is that debt which all the wealth of both 
the Indies cannot discharge. How vitiated that habit 
of body, which all the drugs produced by nature her- 
self, cannot rectify ! But how much more ruined was 
thy condition, O my soul! how much more heinous 
were thy crimes! since nothing less than the suffer- 
ings and death of Messiah, the Son of God, and 
radiant image of his glory, could effect thy recovery, 
or cancel thy iniquity. Though perhaps, thou art 
not sunk so very deep in pollution as some of the 
most abandoned profligates, yet remember the in- 
estimable ransom paid to redeem thee from everlast- 
ing destruction. Remember this, and 'never open 



There is, to me at least, an inimitable spirit and beauty in 
Die last circumstance— I li.it such an innumerable multitude 
of generous and compassionate beings should be struck dumb 
with surprise and terror at the very mention of the deadly 
forfeiture and ransom set! No language is so eloquent as 
this silence. Words could not possibly have expressed, in so 
emphat.cal a manner, the dreadful nature of the task ; the 
absolute inability of any or all creatures to execute it ; the 
supereminent and matchless love of the eternal Son, in un- 
dertaking; the tremendous work, not onl> without reluctance, 
but unsought and uuimplored, with readiness, alacrity, and 
delight.— Paradise Lost, book iii. line 2oy, Edit, lieiitl. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 279 

thy mouth any more,'* either to murmur at the 
divine chastisements, or to glory in thy own attain- 
ments. Remember this; and even 'loathe thyself f 
for the multitude of thy provocations,' and thy great 
baseness. 

Once more; let me view this beautiful, this mag- 
nificent expanse, and conceive some juster apprehen- 
sions of the unknown richness of my Saviour's atone- 
ment I am informed by a writer who cannot mis- 
take, that the High-Priest of my profession, who was 
also the sacrifice for my sins, is higher than the 
heavens ;i more exalted in dignity, more bright with 
glory, than all the heavenly mansions, and all their 
illustrious inhabitants. If my heart was humbled at 
the consideration of its excessive guilt, how do all 
my drooping powers revive at this delightful thought ? 
The poor criminal, that seemed to be tottering on the 
very brink of the infernal pit, is raised, by such a 
belief, even to the portals of paradise. My self-abase- 
ment, I trust, will always continue; but my fears, 
under the influence of such a conviction, are quite 
gone. I do not, I cannot, doubt the efficacy of this 
propitiation. While I see a glimpse of its matchless 
excellency, and verily believe myself interested in its 
merits. I know not what it is to feel any misgiving 
suspicions; but am stedfast in faith, and joyful 
through hope. 

Be my iniquities like debts of millions of talents, 
here is more than full payment for all that prodigious 
sum. Let the enemy of mankind, and accuser of the 
brethren, load me with invectives ; this one plea — a 
divine Redeemer died — most thoroughly quashes 
every indictment. For, though there be much tur- 

* Ezek. xvi. 63. t Ezek. xxxvi. 31. Heb. vii. 26. 



280 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

pitude, and manifold transgressions, ' there is no 
condemnation to those that are in Christ Jesus.'— Nay, 
were I chargeable with all the vilest deeds which have 
been committed in every age of the world, by every 
nation of men ; even in this most deplorable case, I 
need not sink into despair. Even such guilt, though 
grievous beyond all expression, is rot to be compared 
with that abundance of grace and righteousness which 
dwell in the incarnate Divinity. How great, how 
transcendently glorious, are the perfections of the 
adored Jehovah ! so great, so superlatively precious, 
is the expiation of the dying Jesus. 'Tis impossible 
for the human mind to exalt this atonement too 
highly;* 'tis impossible for the humble penitent to 
confide in it too steadily. The Scriptures, the Scrip- 
tures of eternal truth, have said it, (exult my soul in 
the belief of it !) that the blood on which we rely is 
God's own blood ;f and therefore all-sufficient to ex- 
piate, omnipotent to save. 

David, that egregious sinner, but more exemplary 
saint, seems to have been well acquainted with this 
comfortable truth. What else can be the import of 
that very remarkable, but most devout declaration, 
♦ thou shalt purge me ^ with hyssop, and I shall be 

* This doctrine, though rich with consolation to the ruined 
sinner, vet is it not likely to open a door lor licentiousness, and 
enibolden transgressors to prosecute their vices ! No; it is the 
most powerful motive to that genuine repentance, which 
flows from an unfeigned love of God, and operates in a hearty 
detestation of alt sin. One who knew the immeasurable good- 
ness ol the Lord, and was no stranger to the sinful perverse- 
nessofotir nature, savs, 'There is mercv with thee, therefore 
shall thou be feared;' Psal. cxx.x. A- words full to my pur- 
pose, which at once add the highest authority to this senti- 
ment, and direct our minds to it.s proper iuilueuce and due 
improvement. 

t AcU xx. 26. I'sal. li. 7. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 281 

clean; thou shnlt wash me, and I shall be whiter than 
snow.' — ' I have been guilty, I must confess, of the 
most complicated and shocking crimes; crimes, in- 
flamed by every aggravating circumstance, with re- 
gard to myself, my neighbour, and my God: myself, 
who have been blessed above men, and the distin- 
guished favourite of Providence; my neighbour, who, 
in the most dear and tender interests, has been irre- 
parably injured ; my God, who might justly expect 
the most grateful returns of duty, instead of such 
enormous violations of his law. Yet, all horrid and 
execrable as my offence is, it is nothing to the super- 
abundant merit of that great Redeemer, who was 
promised from the foundation of the world; in whom 
all my fathers trusted ; who is the hope of all the 
ends of the earth. Though my conscience be more 
loathsome with adulterous impurity than the dung- 
hill; though treachery and murder have rendered it 
even black as the gloom of hell ; yet, washed in the 
'fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness,'* I shall 
be, I say not, pure only— this were a disparagement 
to the efficacy of my Saviour's death; but I shall be 
fair as the lily, and white as the snow. Nay, let me 
not derogate from the glorious object of my confi- 
dence; cleansed by this sovereign sanctifying stream, 
I shall be fairer than the full-blown lily, whiter than 
the new-fallen snows.' 

Power, saith the Scripture, belongeth unto God.f 
And in what majestic lines is this attribute of Jehovah 
written, throughout the whole volume of the Crea- 
tion ? especially through those magnificent pages, un- 
folded in yonder starry regions ; which are therefore 
styled, by the sweet and seraphic singer of Israel, * the 
* Zeck xiii. 1. + Psal lxii. 11. 

25* 



282 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

firmament of his power ;* because the grand exploits 
of Omnipotence are there displayed with the utmost 
pomp, and recorded in the most legible characters. 

Who, that looks upwards to the midnight sky ; and, 
with an eye of reason, beholds its rolling wonders; 
who can forbear inquiring, Of what were those mighty 
orbs formed ? Amazing to relate ! they were produced 
without materials ; they sprung from emptiness itself: 
the stately fabric of universal nature emerged out of 
nothing. What instruments were used by the Supreme 
Architect, to fashion the parts with such exquisite 
niceness, and grve so beautiful a polish to the whole ? 
How was all connected into one finely-proportioned 
and nobly-finished structure? A bare fiat accom- 
plished all. * Let them be,' said God. He added no 
more ; and immediately the marvellous edifice arose, 
adorned with every beauty, displaying innumerable 
perfections, and declaring, amidst enraptured seraphs, 
its great Creator's praise. « By the word of the Lord 
were the heavens made, and all the host of them by 
the breath of his mouth.' What forceful machinery 
fixed some of those ponderous globes on an immove- 
able basis ? What irresistible impulse bowled others 
through the circuit of the heavens? What coercive 
energy confined their impetuous courses within limits 
astonishingly large, yet most minutely true? Nothing 
but his sovereign will. For all things were at first 
constituted, and all to this day abide, « according to 
his ordinance.' 

Without any toilsome assiduity or laborious pro- 
cess to raise, to touch, to speak such a multitude of 
immense bodies into being; to launch them through 
the spaces of the sky, as an arrow from the hand of 
*.Psal. cl. 1. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 283 

a giant ; to impress on such unwieldy masses a mo- 
tion far outstripping the swiftness of the winged 
creation,* and to continue them in the same rapid 
whirl for thousands and thousands of years — What 
an amazing instance of infinite might is this ! Can 
any thing be impossible to the Lord, the Lord God, 
the Creator and Controller of all the ends of the earth, 
all the regions of the universe ? Rather, is not all 
that we count difficult, perfect ease to that glorious 
Being, who only spake and the world was made ?f 
Who only gave command, and the stupendous axle 
was lodged fast, the lofty wheels moved complete ? 
What a sure defence, O my soul, is this everlasting 
strength of thy God ! Be this thy continual refuge in 
the article of danger, this thy never-failing resource 
in every time of need. 

What cannot this uncontrollable power of the great 
Jehovah effect for his people? Be their miseries ever 
so galling, cannot this God relieve them ? Be their 
wants ever so numerous, cannot this God supply 
them ? Be their corruptions within ever so inveterate, 
or their temptations without ever so importunate, 
cannot this mighty, mighty God subdue the former, 

* To give one instance of this remark. The earth, in the 
diurnal revolution which it perforins on its own axis, whirls 
about at the rate of a thousand miles an hour. And as the great 
orbit, which it describes annually round the sun, is reckoned 
at 540 millions of miles, it must 'travel near a million and a 
half each day. What a fo ice must be requisite to p'rolude so 
vast a globe, and wheel it on, loaded as it is with huge moun- 
tains and ponderous rocks, at such a prodigious degree of ra- 
pidity 1 It surpasses human conception! How natural, how 
pertinent, how almost necessary, after such an observation, is 
the acknowledgment made by holy Job : ' I know that thou 
canst do every thing; and that no thought,' no imaginable 
scheme, ' can be withholden from thee,' can lie beyond thy 
power to execute. Chap. xlii. 2. 

I Hsal. xxxiii. 9. 



284 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

and fortify them against the latter ? Should trials, 
with an incessant vehemence, sift thee as wheat; 
should tribulation, with a weight of woes, almost 
grind thee to powder; should pleasure, with her be- 
witching smiles solicit thee to delicious ruin ; yet 
« hold thee fast by God,' and lay thy help upon him 
that is omnipotent. Thou canst not be involved in 
such calamitous circumstances, or exposed to such 
imminent peril, but thy God, whom thou servest, is 
able to deliver thee from the one, and to support thee 
under the other. To support ! to deliver ! Let me 
not dishonour the unlimited greatness of his power. 
He is able to exalt thee, from the deepest distress, to 
the most triumphant joy ; and to make even a com- 
plication of evils work together for thy everlasting 
good. He is able, not only to accomplish what I have 
been speaking, but to do exceeding abundantly above 
all that we can ask or think. 

O ! the wretched condition of the wicked, who have 
this Lord of all power for their enemy ! O ! the des- 
perate madness of the ungodly, who provoke the Al- 
mighty to jealously ! Besotted creatures ! are you able 
to contend with your Maker, and enter the lists against 
incensed Omnipotence ? Can you bear the fierceness 
of his wrath, or sustain the vengeance of his lifted 
arm ? At his presence, though awfully serene, the hills 
melt like wax, and the ' mountains skip like frighted 
lambs.' At the least intimation of his displeasure, 
the foundations of nature rock, and the 'pillars of 
heaven tremble.' How then can a withered leaf en- 
dure, when « his lips are full of indignation, and his 
tongue as a devouring fire?' Or can any thing screen 
a guilty worm, when the great and tenible God shall 
whet his glittering sword, and his hand take hold on 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 285 

inexorable judgment ? When that hand, which shoots 
the planets, masses of excessive bulk,* with such sur- 
prising rapidity through the sky; that hand, which 
darts the comets to such unmeasurable distances, be- 
yond the orbit of our remotest planet, beyond the 
pursuit of the strongest eye: when that hand is 
stretched out to punish, can the munition of rocks, 
the intervention of seas, or even interposing worlds, 
divert the blow ? Consider this, Ambition ; and bow 
thy haughty crest. Consider this, Disobedience, and 
bend thy iron sinew. O ! consider this, all ye that 
forget or affront the tremendous Jehovah. He can, 
by a single act of his will, lay the universe in utter 
ruin; and can he want power to bring you, in a 
moment, in the twinkling of an eye, to the dust of 
death, or to the flames of hell ? He has, 1 say not, 
ten thousand lightnings to scorch you to ashes; ten 
thousand thunders to crush you into atoms ; but, what 
is unspeakably more dreadful, he has an army of ter- 
rors, even in the look of his angry countenance. His 
very frown is worse than destruction. 

I cannot dismiss this subject without admiring the 
patience of the blessed God ; who, though so strong 
and powerful, yet • is provoked every day.' Surely, 
as is his majesty, so is his mercy ; his pity altogether 
commensurate to his power. If I vilify but the name 
of an earthly monarch, I lose my liberty, and am 

* One of the planets (Saturn) is supposed to be more than 
ninety times as bitf as thegrlobe on which we live. According 
to the same calculation, the largest of the planets (Jupiter; 
is above two hundred times vaster than this vast collection of 
spacious forests, towering mountains, extensive continents, 
and boundless oceans. Such enormous magnitude, winged 
with such prodigious speed ! it raises astonishment beyond 
expression— With God is terrible majesty i-Job xxxvii. *J2. 
Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name' 
Uev. xv. 4. 



286 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

confined to the dungeon. If I appear in arms, and 
draw the sword against my national sovereign, my 
life is forfeited, and my very blood will scarce atone 
for the crime. But thee I have dishonoured, O ! 
thou King immortal and invisible ! Against thee my 
breast has fomented secret disaffection ; my beha- 
viour has risen up in open rebellion ; and yet I am 
spared, yet I am preserved. Instead of being banished 
from thy presence, I sit at thy table, and am fed 
from thy hand. Instead of pursuing me with thun- 
derbolts of vengeance, thy favours surround me on 
every side. That arm, that injured arm, which 
might justly fall, with irretrievable ruin, on a trai- 
tor's head, is most graciously stretched out to cares3 
him with the tenderest endearments, to cherish him 
with every instance of parental kindness. O ! thou 
mightiest, thou best of beings, how am I pained at 
my very soul for such shameful and odious dixinge- 
nuity ! Let me always abominate myself as the basest 
of creatures, but adore that unwearied long-suffering 
of thine, which refuses to be irritated ; love that un- 
remitted goodness, which no acts of ingratitude could 
stop, or so much as check, in its gracious current. 
O : let this stubborn heart, which duty could not 
bind, which threatenings could not awe, be the 
captive, the willing captive, of such triumphant be- 
neficence. 

I have often been struck with wonder at that Al- 
mighty skill, which weighed the mountains in scales, 
and the hills in a balance; which proportioned the 
waters in the hollow of its hand, and adjusted the 
dust of the earth* by a measure. But how much 

* Isai. xl. 12. The dust, 
ture.i 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 287 

more marvellous is that magnificent economy which 
poised the stars with inexpressible nicety, and meted 
out the heavens with a span! where all is prodigi- 
ously vast, immensely various, and yet more than 
mathematically exact. Surely, the wisdom of God 
manifests itself in the skies, and shines in those lucid 
orbs; shines on the contemplative mind, with a lustre 
incomparably brighter than that which their united 
splendours transmit to the eye. 

Behold yonder countless multitude of globes; con- 
sider their amazing magnitude; regard them as the 
sovereigns of so many systems, each accompanied 
with his planetary equipage. Upon this supposition, 
what a multiplicity of mighty spheres must be per- 
petually running their rounds in the upper regions ' 
yet none mistake their way, or wander from the goal, 
though they pass through trackless and unbounded 
fields. None fly off from their orbits into extrava- 
gant excursions; none press in upon their centre 
with too near an approach. None interfere with 

is placed in contradistinction to (he whole collection of fluid 
matter, mentioned in the preceding clause. Perhaps this 
remarkable expressiu 



calculated and dispos 
such enormous redundancies, «s unnecessary ridges <>f moun- 
tains, were suffered to subsist. There was not so much as 
the least grain of sand superfluous, or a single panicle ol 
dust deficient. As the grand aim of the description is, to ce- 
lebrate the consummate wisdom eNemplified in the creation, 
and lo display that perfect proportion with which every part 
t illies, coincides, and harmonizes with the whole. I have 
taken leave to alter the word of our English translators 
'comprehend,' and introduce in its stead a term which ig 
faithful to the Hebrew, and more significative of the author's 
precise idea. 



288 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

each other in their perennial passage, or intercept 

th« kindly communications of another's influence;* 

but all their rotations proceed in eternal harmony, 

keeping such time, and observing such laws, as are 

most exquisitely adapted to the perfection of the 

whole. 

While I contemplate this « excellent wisdom which 
made the heavens,' and attunes all their motions, 
how am I abashed at that mixture of arrogance and 
folly, which has at any time inclined me to murmur 
a f . thy dispensations, O Lord ! What is this, but a 
sort of implicit treason against thy supremacy, and 
a tacit denial of thy infinite understanding? Hast 
thou so regularly placed such a wonderful diversity 
of systems through the spaces of the universe ? Didst 
thou, without any probationary essays, without any 
improving re-touches, speak them into the most con- 
summate perfection ? Dost thou continually super- 
intend all their circumstances with a sagacity that 
never mistakes the minutest tittle of propriety ? And 
shall I be so unaccountably stupid as to question the 
justness of thy discernment, in ' choosing my inhe- 
ritance, and fixing the bounds of my habitation ?' 
Not a single erratum in modelling the structure, de- 
termining the distance, f and conducting the career 
of unnumbered worlds! and shall my peevish hu- 

* The interception of lisrht, by means of an eclipse, happens 
very rarely ; ami .iien is of mi short a continuance, vis not to 
beat all ineonve.nent : nay, it is ut< ndtd with such circum- 
stances as render it rather useful than prejudicial. 

t The sun in particular (and let this serve a* a specimen 
of that most enri ms exactness n ith which the other celestial 
bodies are consiitnied, and all their circumstances regulated), 
the sun is forme i of such a determinate ma<rniiude, and placed 
at such a convenient (list nice, ' a- not to annoy, but only re- 
fresh us, and n "irish the ground with its kindly warmth. If it 
were larjjer, n would set the earth on lire ; if smaller, it would 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 2S9 

mour presume to censure thy interposition with re- 
gard to the affairs of one inconsiderable creature, 
whose stature, in such a comparative view, is less 
than a span, and his present duration little more than 
a moment ? 

O ! thou God, * in whose hand my breath is, and 
whose are all my ways,' let such sentiments as now 
possess my thoughts be always lively on my heart ! 
These shall compose my mind into a cheerful acqui- 
escence and a thankful submission, even when afflic- 
tions gall the sense, or disappointments break my 
schemes. Then shall I, like the grateful patriarch,* 
in all the changes of my condition, and even in the 
depths of distress, erect an altar of adoring resigna- 
tion, and inscribe it with the apostle's motto, ' To 
God only wise.' Then shouldst thou give me leave 
to be the carver of my own fortunes, I would hum- 
bly desire to relinquish the grant, and recommit the 
disposal of myself to thy unerring beneficence ; fully 
persuaded that thy counsels, though contrary to my 
froward inclinations, or even afflictive to my flesh, 
are incomparably more eligible than the blind im- 
pulse of my own will, however soothing to animal 
nature. 

On a carelets inspection, you perceive no accuracy 
or uniformity in the position of the heavenly bodies. 
They appear like an illustrious chaos, a promiscuous 
heap of shining globes ; neither ranked in order, nor 
moving by line. But what seems confusion is all 
regularity; what carries a show of negligence, is 

leave it frozen ; if it was nearer us, we should be scorched to 
death ; if farther from us, we should not be able to live for 
want of heat.'— Stac/thouse's History of the Bible. 
* See Gen. xii. 7, 8. 



290 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

leally the result of the most masterly contrivance. 
You think, perhaps, they rove in their aerial flight ; 
but they rove by the nicest rule and without the 
least error. Their circuits, though seemingly devi- 
ous ; their mazes, though intricate to our apprehen- 
sions ; are marked out, not indeed with golden com- 
passes, but by the infinitely more exact determina- 
tions of the all-wise Spirit. 

So, what wears the appearance of calamity in the 
allotments appointed for the godly, has really the 
nature of a blessing. It issues from fatherly love, 
and will terminate in the richest good. If Joseph is 
snatched from the embraces of an indulgent parent, 
and abandoned to slavery in a foreign land ; it is in 
order to save the holy family from perishing by fa- 
mine, and to preserve ' the seed, in whom all the 
nations of the earth should be blessed.' If he falls 
into the deepest disgrace, it is on purpose that he 
may rise to the highest honours. Even the confine- 
ment of the prison, by the unsearchable workings of 
Providence, opens his way to the right hand of the 
throne itself. Let the most afflicted servant of Jesus 
wait the final upshot of things. He will then dis- 
cover the apparent expediency of all those tribula- 
tions, which now, perhaps, he can hardly admit with- 
out reluctance, or suffer without some struggles of 
dissatisfaction. Then the gushing tear and the heav- 
ing sigh will be turned into tides of gratitude and 
hymns of holy wonder. 

In the mean time, let no audacious railer presump- 
tuously impeach the divine procedure; but, adoring 
where we cannot comprehend, let us expect the evo- 
lution of the mysterious plan. Then shall every eye 
perceive, that the seeming labyrinths of Providence 



THE STARRY HEAVENS, 291 

were the most direct and compendious way to effect 
his general purposes of grace, and to bring about 
each one's particular happiness. Then, also, shall 
it be clearly shown, in the presence of applauding 
worlds, why virtue pined in want, while vice rioted 
in affluence ; why amiable innocence so often dragged 
the dungeon chain, while horrid guilt trailed the 
robe of state. That day of universal audit, that day 
of everlasting retribution, will not only vindicate 
but magnify the whole management of Heaven. The 
august sessions shall close with this unanimous, 
this glorious acknowledgment : ' Though clouds and 
darkness, impenetrable by any human scrutiny, were 
sometimes round about the Supreme Conductor of 
things, yet righteousness and judgment were the 
constant habitation of his seat,* the invariable stan- 
dard of all his administrations.' Thus (if I may il- 
lustrate the grandest truths by inferior occurrences), 
while we view the arras on the side of least distinc- 
tion, it is void of any elegant fancy, without any 
nice strokes of art, nothing but a confused jumble of 
incoherent threads. No sooner is the piece beheld 
in its proper aspect, but the suspected rudeness 
vanishes, and the most curious arrangement takes 
place. We are charmed with designs of the finest 
taste, and figures of the most graceful form : all is 
shaped with symmetry, all is clad in beauty. 

The goodness of God is most eminently displayed 
in the skies. Could we take an understanding sur- 
vey of whatever is formed by the Divine Architect, 
throughout the whole extent of material things, our 
minds would be transported with their excellencies, 
and our tongues echo back that great encomium, 
* Psal. xcvii. 2. 



292 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

They are « good, very good :« most beautiful in 
themselves; contrived by unerring wisdom, and exe- 
cuted with inimitable skill : most useful in their 
functions, exactly fitting the places they fill, and 
completely answering the purposes for which they 
•were intended ! All the parts of the inanimate crea- 
tion proclaim, both by their intrinsic and relative 
excellencies, the all-diffusive beneficence of their 
Maker. 

How much more wonderful are the displays of di- 
vine indulgence in the worlds of life! Because dead 
matter is incapable of delight, therefore the gra- 
cious Creator has raised innumerable ranks of per- 
ceptive existence; such as are qualified to taste his 
bounty, and enjoy each a happiness suited to its 
peculiar state. "With this view, he furnished the 
regions of inferior nature with an order and a scries 
of sensitive beings. The waters teem with shoals of 
finny inhabitants ; the dry land swarms with animals 
of every order : the dwellings of the firmament are 
occupied by multitudes of winged people; not so 
much as a green leaf, philosophers say, but lodges 
and accommodates its puny animalcule tenants,* 



subject, informs Ins readers, that all nature swarms with lite. 
In subterranean cells, the earth titans with vital motion : even 
the hard stone, in the very inmost recesses of its impenetrable 
citadel, holds multitudes of animated inhabitants. The pulp 
of mellow fruit, and all the productions of the orchard, feed, 
the invisible nations. Each liquid, whether of acid taste or 
milder relish, abounds with various forms of sensitive exist- 
ence. Nor is the pure stream, or transparent air, without 
their colonies of unsten people. In which constitution of 
things we have a wonderful instance, not only of the divine 
goodness to those minute beings, in ^'"i: them a capacity 
for animal gratifications, but of his tender care for mankind 
in making them imperceptible to our senses. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 293 

And wherefore this diversity, this profusion of living 
creatures, flying the air, treading the ground, and 
gliding through the paths of the sea? For this most 
glorious reason, — that the eternal Sovereign may ex- 
ercise his superabundant goodness ; that his table may 
be furnished with millions and millions of guests ; 
that he may fill, every hour, every moment, their 
mouths with food, or their hearts with gladness. 

But what a small theatre are three or four ele- 
ments for the operations of Jehovah's bounty ! His 
magnificent liberality scorns such scanty limits. If 
you ask, wherefore has he created all worlds, and 
replenished them with an unknown multiplicity of 
beings, rising one above another in an endless gra- 
dation of still richer endowments, and still nobler 
capacities ? The answer is,— for the manifestation of 
his own glory, and especially for the communi cation 
of his inexhaustible beneficence.* The great Creator 
could propose no advantage to himself ; his bliss 
is incapable of any addition. • Before the mountains 
were brought forth, or ever the earth and the 



Bv the kind arc of f. ,rniin<r Heav'n, escape 
The grosser eve of man ; for, if the worlds 
In worlds enclosed should on his senses burst, 
From cates ambrosial and the neetar'd bowl 
He'd turn abhorrent: and in dead of night, 
Wnen silence sleeps o'er all, be stuun'd with noise. 
Thomson's Summer. 
* A sacred writer, considering- this delightful subject, and 
confining his observations within the narrow limits of his own 
country, cries out, with a mixture of amazement and grati- 
tude, 'How great is his goodness, and how great is his beauty !' 
Who then can forbear being lost in wonder, and transported 
vsth delight, when lie extends his survey to those infinitely 
more copious communications of divine bounty, which, like 
salutary and refieshing streams, run through all worlds, and 
make, not only the little valleys of a single kingdom, but the 
immensity of creation, laugh and sing! Zech.ix. 17. 



294 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

world were made,' he was supremely happy in his 
own independent and all sufficient self. His grand 
design, therefore, in erecting so many stately fabrics, 
and peopling them with so many tribes of inha- 
habitants, was to transfuse his exuberant kindness, 
and impart felicity in all its forms. Ten thousand 
worlds, stocked with ten thousand times ten thousand 
ranks of sensitive and intelligent existence, are so 
many spacious gardens, which, with rivers of com- 
municated joy, this ever-flowing fountain waters con- 
tinually. 

Boundless,* and (which raises our idea of this 
divine principle to the very highest degree of per- 
fection) disinterested* munificence 1 How inexpres- 
sibly amiable is the blessed God, considered in thi3 
charming light ! Is it possible to conceive any ex- 
cellence so adorable and lovely, as infinite benevo- 
lence, guided by unerring wisdom, and exerting 
Almighty power, on purpose to make a whole universe 
happy ! O my soul, what an irresistible attractive 
is here ! What a most worthy object for thy most 
fervent affection ! Shall now every glittering toy 
become a rival to this transcendently beneficient 
Being, and rob him of thy heart? No. Let his all- 
creating arm teach thee to trust in the fulness of his 
sufficiency ; let his all-superintending eye incline 
thee to acquiesce in the dispensations of his provi- 
dence ; and let his bounty, so freely vouchsafed, so 
amply diffused, induce thee to love him with all the 
ardour of a grateful and admiring soul; induce thee 

* * In this sense, ' There is none good but one, that is God ;' 
none universally and ess< ntially (food ; none, whose goodness 
extends itse fin an infinite variely of blessings io every ca- 
pable object ; "I", »li" always dispenses his favours, from the 
sole principle of free and disinterested benevolence. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 295 

to serve him, not with a joyless awe, or slavish dread, 
but with unfeigned alacrity, and a delightful com- 
placency. 

If the goodness of God is so admirably seen in the 
works of nature, and the favours of providence ; with 
what a noble superiority does it even triumph, in 
the mystery of redemption ! Redemption is the 
brightest mirror, in which to contemplate this most 
lovely attribute of the Deity. Other gifts are only 
as mites from the divine treasury; but redemption 
opens, I had almost said exhausts, all the stores of 
indulgence and grace. Herein, « God commandeth 
his love;* not only manifests, but sets it off, as it 
were, with every bright and grand embellishment ; 
manifests it in so stupendous a manner, that it is 
beyond parallel, beyond thought, * above all blessing 
and praise.' Was he not thy Son, everlasting God, 
thy only Son; the Son of thy bosom from eternal 
ages ; the highest object of thy complacential de- 
light ? Was not thy love to this adorable Son, in- 
comparably greater than the tenderest affection of 
any, or the united affections of all, mortal parents ? 
Was not the blessed Jesus more illustrious in excel- 
lency than all angels ; more exalted in dignity than 
all heavens ? Yet didst thou resign him for poor 
mortals ; for vile sinners ! Couldst thou see him 
descend from his royal throne, and take up his abode 
in the sordid stable ? See him forego the homage of 
the Seraphim, and stand exposed to the reproachful 
indignities of an insolent rabble ? See him arraigned 
at the bar, and sentenced to death ; numbered with 
malefactors and nailed to the gibbet; bathed in his 
own innocent blood, and pouring out his soul in 
* Rom. v. 8. 



296 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

agonies of sorrow ? Could the Father, the Father 
himself, with unknown philanthropy,* say, ' It shall, 
it shall be so ! My pity to rebellious man pleads, 
and prevails. Awake, therefore, O sword, f edged 
with divine wrath. Awake, and be sheathed in that 
immaculate breast ; pierce that dearly beloved heart. 
I am content, that my Son endure the sharpness of 
death, rather than sinful mortals perish for ever.' 
Incomprehensible love! May it henceforward be 
the favorite subject of my meditation ; more de- 
lightful to my musing mind than applause to the 
ambitious ear ! May it be the darling theme of my 
discourse; sweeter to my tongue than the droppings 
of the honeycomb to my taste ! M ay it be my choicest 
comfort through all the changes of life; and my re- 
viving cordial, even in the last extremities of disso- 
lution itself ! 

A prophet, contemplating with a distant survey 
this unexampled instance of Almighty love, is rapt 
into a transport of devotion. At a loss for proper ac- 
knowledgments, he calls upon the whole universe 
to aid his labouring breast, and supply his lack of 
praise. Sing melodiously, ye vaulted heavens; exult, 
and even leap for gladness, thou cumbrous earth; 
ye mountains, break your long silence; and burst 
into peals of loudest acclammation;t for the Lord, by 
this precious gift, and this great salvation hath com- 
forted his people. A sacred historian hath left it 
upon record, that, at the first exhibition of this 
ravishing scene, there was, with the angel, who 
brought the blessed tidings, a multitude of the hea- 
venly host; praising God, and making the concave 



THE STARRY HEAVENS 297 

of the skies resound with their hallelujahs. At the 
dawn of the Sun cf Righteousness, when he was be- 
ginning to rise with healing in his wings, the morn- 
ing stars sang together, and all the sons of God 
shouted for joy. And shall man, whom this gracious 
dispensation principally respects ; shall man, who is 
the centre of all these gladdening rays ; shall he have 
no heart to adore, no anthem to declare, this 

Love without end, and without measure grace. — Milt. 

How pure is the state of the sky, and how clear 
its aspect ! clearer than the limpid stream ; purer 
than the transparent crystal ; and more curiously fine 
than the polished mirror. That stately ceiling, fret- 
ted with gold, and stretched to an extent of many 
millions of leagues, is not disfigured with a single 
flaw. That azure canopy, embroidered with stars; 
and spacious enough to form a covering for unnum- 
bered worlds, is without the least spot or wrinkle. 
Yet this, even this, will scarce yield us so much as 
a faint representation of the divine purity. God is 
a God of matchless and transcendant excellency ; his 
ways are uprightness itself ; his counsels and words 
are the very sanctity of wisdom and of truth. The 
laws which he has given to universal nature, are 
exquisitely contrived, and beyond all possibility of 
improvement. The precepts which he has appointed 
for the human race, are a complete summary of all 
that is honourable in itself, and perfective of the 
rational mind. Not the least oversight, in planning 
a series of events for all futurity ; not the least mal- 
administration :n managing the affairs of every age, 
since time began, and of every nation under the 
whole heavens. Pardon these disparaging expres* 



298 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

Bions. A negative perfection is far, far beneath thy 
dignity, O thou most Highest. In all these in- 
stances in all thy acts, and all thy attributes, thou 
art not only holy, but glorious in holiness.' 

So inconceivably holy is the Lord God of Hosts, 
that he sees defilement even in the brightness of the 
firmament; the living sapphire in the heavens, be- 
fore his majesty, loses its lustre; yea, the stars, 
(though the most pure and resplendent part of the 
heavens) are not pure in his sight, How much less 
man, who in his fallen and depraved state, is but as 
a worm that crawls in the corrupted carcase ; and 
the son of man, who, by reason of his manifold ac- 
tual impurities, is too justly compared to an in- 
sect that wallows amid stench and putrefaction? 
Is there not then abundant cause, for the most irre- 
proachable and eminent of mankind to renounce all 
arrogant pretensions, to lay aside every assuming 
air, to take nothing but shame and confusion to them- 
selves ! A holy prophet, and a holy prince, felt such 
humbling impressions, from a glimpse of the uncreated 
purity. I abhor myself in dust and ashes*, was the 
declaration of the one: lam a man of unclean lipsf, 
the confession of the other. Should not this teach 
us all to adore the divine mercies, for that precious 
purifying fountain,:; which was foretold from the 
foundation of the world, but was opened at that 
awful juncture, when knotty whips tore the flesh, 
when ragged thorns mangled the temples, when sharp- 
ened nails cut fresh sluices for the crimson current, 
when the gash of the spear completed the dreadful 
* Job. xliii. 6. + Isa. iv. 5. 

t In that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house 
of David, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for siu and 
uucleanuess. Zecli. ziii. 1 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 299 

work, and forthwith flowed there, from the wounded 
heart, blood and water ? 

Especially, since God himself saw no blemish in 
his dear Son. He looketh to the moon, and it shineth 
not ; yet his all-penetrating and jealous eye discerned 
nothing amiss, nothing defective, in our glorious 
Redeemer. Nothing amiss ? He bore this illustrious 
testimony concerning his holy child Jesus : « In him 
I am pleased; I am well pleased; I acquiesce, with 
entire complacency, and with the highest delight, in 
his person, his undertaking, and the whole execution 
of his office.' How should this thought enliven our 
hopes, while the other mortifies our pride ! Should 
not our hearts spring within us, and even leap for 
joy, at the repeated assurance given us by revela- 
lation, that such a divinely excellent person is our 
Mediator ? What apparent reason has every believer 
to adopt the blessed Virgin's exclamation ! ' My soul 
doth magnify the Lord for his transcendent mercy ; 
and my spirit rejoices, not in wide-extended harvests, 
waving over my fertile glebe,* not in armies van- 
quished, and leaving the peculiar treasure of nations 
for my spoil,* but in an infinitely richer, nobler bless- 
ing, even in God my Saviour :' that a person so 
sublime and perfect, has vouchsafed to become my 
surety : to give himself for my ransom, in the world 
below, and act as my advocate in the royal presence 
above ; yea, to make my recovery the reward of his 
sufferings ; my final felicity the honour of his media- 
torial kingdom ! 



* * The inspired penman, from these two occasions of dis- 
tiiiff'ii-lit-d jov. sets t'iirt:i ;lie incomparably greater delight. 
which arises from the gift of a Saviour, and the blessing of 
redemption. Isaiah ix. ver. 3, compared with ver. 6. 



300 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

When an innumerable multitude* of bodies, many 
of them more than a hundred thousand miles in dia- 
meter,! are all set in motion ; when the orbits, in 
which they perform their periodical revolutions, are 
extended at the rate of several hundreds of millions; 
when each has a distinct and separate sphere for 
finishing his vast circuit; when no one knows what 
it is to be cramped, but each most freely expatiates 
in his unbounded career ; when every one is placed at 
such an immense remove from each other, that they 
appear to their respective inhabitants only as so many 
spots of light: how astonishing must be the expanse, 
which yields room for all those mighty globes, and 
their widely-diffused operations! To what prodigious 
lengths did the Almighty Builder stretch his line, 
when he marked out the stupendous platform '. I 
wonder at such an immeasurable extent ! my very 
thoughts are lost in this abyss of space; but, be it 
known to mortals, be it never forgot by sinners, that, 
in all its most surprising amplitude, it is small, it is 
scanty, compared with the bounty, and the mercy of 
its Maker. 
His bounty is absolutely without limits.^ and with- 

* This refers not only to the planets which pass and repass 
about nur sun, but also to the other planet,.ry worlds, which 
are supposed to attend the several fixed stars. 

+ The diameter of Jupiter is calculated at 13O.6.J0 miles, 
while his orbit is reckoned to consist of SS>5, 134, OOU ; which 
computation, according to the maxims <>l "astronomy, and the 
laws of proportion, may, as is taken for granted in the Con- 
templations, be applied to other planets revolving round 

1 By bounty, I mean, not the actual exercise, or the sensible 
eflects of this excellence in the L)eit> : these are, and always 
must be, through the immense perfection of the attribute, 
and the necessary scantiness oi the recipient, bound. d. But 
1 would he understood, as speaking of the divine power, and 
the divine will, to exert divine beneficence. These can have 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 301 

out end. The most lavish generosity cannot exhaust 
or even diminish his munificence. O ! all ye tribes 
of men ; or rather, all ye classes of intelligent crea- 
tures ; ye are not straitened in the liberality of your 
ever-blessed Creator; be not straitened in your own 
expectations. ' Open your mouth wide, and he shall 
fill it,' with copious and continual draughts from the 
cup of joy. Your God, on whom is your whole de- 
pendence, is more than able, is more than willing, to 
* supply all your need according to his riches in glory.' 
When the Lord Jehovah is the giver, and his grace* 
the gift; let your wishes be unbounded, and your 
cravings unsatiable. All that created beings can pos- 
sibly covet, is but a very small pittance of that un- 
known happiness, which the everlasting Benefactor 
is ready to bestow. Suppose every charitable dispo- 
sition, which warms the hearts of the human race, 
added to those more enlarged affections which glow 
in heavenly bosoms ; what were they all, even in 
their highest exercise, compared with the benignity 
of the Divine Nature? Bless me then, thou Eternal 
Source of love; bless all that reverence thy holy 
name, according to thy own most profuse goodness; 
whose great prerogative it is, to disdain all measure. 

no real, no imaginable limits. These, after a profusion of 
blessings, distributed to unnumbered worlds, continued 
through unnumbered ages, must still have more to bestow, 
for ever have more to bestow, infinitely more to bestow, than 
it is possible for creation itself to receive. 

* 2 Cor. ix. 8. ' God is able to make all grace abound to- 
wards you, that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, 
may abound to every good work.' How beautiful and em- 
phatical is this description ! inferior to nothing, but that ex- 
tent of ability, and those riches of liberality, which it so 
eloquently celebrates. Does it not exhaust all the powers of 
language, while it attempts to give us a specimen of the mu- 
nificence of the Lord 1 



302 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

O ! bless us, in proportion to that grace; the richness 
of which (unutterable by the tongues of men, and of 
angels) was once spoken in the groans, and written in 
the wounds of thy expiring Son ! 

Spacious indeed are these heavens ! Where do 
they begin ? Where do they end ? What is their 
extent? Can angels answer my question? Have 
angels travelled the vast circuit ? Can angels mea- 
sure the bounds of space ? No ; 'tis boundless, 'tis 
unknown, 'tis amazing all. How charming then to 
reflect, that the mercy of God is ' greater than the 
heavens;' is more extensive than the dimensions of 
the sky. Transporting reflection ! Let me indulge 
thee once more. Let me think over the delightful 
displays of this lovely attribute; and, while I admire 
the trophies of forgiving goodness, add one to the 
number. With what amiable and affecting colours is 
this represented in the parable of the prodigal ! What 
could induce that foolish youth to forsake his father's 
house ? Had he not been tenderly cherished by the 
good parent, and loaded with benefits from his in- 
dulgent hand? Were not the restraints of parental 
government an easy yoke; or rather, a preservative 
from ruin ? Notwithstanding every endearing obliga- 
tion, he revolts from his duty, and launches into 
such scandalous irregularities, as were dishonourable 
to his family, and destructive to himself. When 
necessity, not choice, but sharp necessity, drove him 
to a submissive return ; does the injured father stand 
aloof, or shut his doors? Quite the reverse. He 
espies him while he is yet a great way off, and the 
moment he beholds the profligate youth, he has com- 
passion on him ; his bowels yearn ; they ' sound liko 
an harp,' touched with notes divinely soft. He never 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 303 

once thinks of his ungracious department and in- 
famous debaucheries. Pity, parental pity, passes an 
act of oblivion ; and, in one instant cancels a series of 
long continued provocations. So strong are the work- 
ings of fatherly affection, that he is almost impatient 
to embrace the naked and destitute wretch. The son's 
pace is slow ; he arose and came : the father is swift, 
he sprung forth (aged as he was) and ran. And is 
there a single frown in his brow, or one upbraiding 
word on his tongue ? Instead of loathing the sordid 
creature, or reproaching him for his odious excesses, 
he falls on his neck, clasps him in his arms, and hugs 
him to his bosom. Instead of disowning the riotous 
spendthrift, or rejecting him for his undutiful beha- 
viour, he receives and welcomes him with kisses of 
delight ; he rejoices at his return from extravagance 
and vice, as he formerly rejoiced on the day of his 
nativity. When this companion of harlots opens his 
mouth, before he speaks, the father hears. He in- 
terrupts him, in the midst of his intended speech; 
the overflowings of his compassionate heart can brook 
no delay ; he seems to be uneasy himself, till he has 
made the afflicted penitent glad with the assurance of 
his acceptance, and the choicest of his favours ; while 
the poor abashed offender seeks nothing more than 
not to be abhorred, he is thoroughly reconciled, and 
honoured before the whole family ; while he requests 
no other indulgence, than only to be treated as the 
meanest servant, he is clothed with the best robe, he 
is feasted with the fatted calf, he is caressed as the 
dearest of children. Was there ever so bright and 
winning a picture of the tenderest mercy, most freely 
vouchsafed, even to the most unworthy of creatures ? 
Yet thus, my soul ; and thus, my fellow-sinner ; will 



304 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

the Lord God of everlasting compassions receive us; 
if, sensible of our misery, and thirsting for salvation, 
we turn to him through Jesus Christ. 

Whore sin has abounded, says the proclamation 
from the court of heaven, grace doth much more 
abound. Manasseh was a monster of barbarity, for 
he caused his own children to pass through the fire, 
and filled Jerusalem with innocent blood. Manasseh 
was an adept in iniquity ; for he not only multiplied, 
and to an extravagant degree, his own sacrilegious im- 
pieties, but he poisoned the principles, and perverted 
the manners of his subjects, making them to do worse 
than the most detestable of the heathen idolaters.* 
Yet, through this superabundant grace, he is hum- 
bled, he is reformed, and becomes a child of for- 
giving love, an heir of immortal glory. Behold that 
bitter and bloody persecutor Saul ; when, breathing 
out threatening*, ; and bent upon slaughter, he wor- 
ried the lambs, and put to death the disciples of 
Jesus ; who, upon the principles of human judgment, 
would not have pronounced him a vessel of wrath, 
destined to unavoidable damnation ; nay, would not 
have been ready to conclude, that, if there were 
heavier chains, and a deeper dungeon, in the world 
of woe : they must surely be reserved for such an 
implacable enemy of true godliness ? Yet (admire 
and adore the inexhaustible treasure of grace !) this 
Saul is admitted into the goodly fellowship of the pro- 
phets, is numbered with the noble army of martyrs, 
and makes a distinguished figure among the glorious 
company of the apostles. The Corinthiam were 
flagitious even to a proverb. Some of them wallowed 
in such abominable vices, and habituated themselves 
* See 2 Chron. xxxiii. t Acts ix. 1. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 305 

to such outrageous acts of injustice, as were a re- 
proach to human nature. Yet even these sons of 
violence, and slaves of sensuality, « were washed, 
were sanctified, were justified :'* washed, in the pre- 
cious blood of a dying Redeemer ; sanctified, by the 
powerful operations of his blessed Spirit ; justified, 
through the infinitely tender mercies of a gracious 
God. Those who were once the burden of the earth, 
are now the joy of heaven, and the delight of angels. 
There is another instance in Scripture, which most 
loudly publishes that sweetest of the divine names, 
* the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, 
long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth ; 
keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, 
transgression, and sin :'f an instance this, which ex- 
ceeds all the former ; which exceeds whatever can be 
imagined ; which, if I were to forget, the very stones 
might cry out, and sound it in my ears. I mean the 
case of those sinners, who murdered the Prince of 
Peace, and Lord of Glory. These men could scarce 
have the shadow of an excuse for their crime ; hardly 
a circumstance to extenuate their guilt. They were 
well acquainted with his exemplary conversation ; 
they had often heard his heavenly doctrines ; they 
were almost daily spectators of his unequalled mira- 
cles. They therefore had all possible reason to honour 
him, as the most illustrious of Beings ; and to receive 
his gospel, as the most inestimable of blessings. Yet, 
notwithstanding all these engaging motives to love 
him, even above their own lives ; they seize his per- 
son, asperse his character, drag him before a heathen 
tribunal, and extort a sentence of death against 
innocence and holiness itself. Never was the vilest 
* 1 Cor. vi. 9—11. + Exod. xxxiv. 6, 7. 



306 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

slave so contumeliously abused, nor the most exe- 
crable malefactor so barbarously executed. The sun 
was confounded at the shocking scene; and one can- 
not but wonder, how the avenging lightnings could 
withhold their flashes. The earth trembled at the 
horrid deed ; and why, why did it not cleave asunder, 
and open the passage for such blood-thirsty mis- 
creants, into the nethermost hell ? Shall these ever 
hope to obtain forgiveness from the righteous Judge? 
Shall not these be consigned over to inexorable wrath, 
and the severest torments ? O the miraculous effects 
of divine grace ! O the triumphant goodness of God 
our Saviour ! Many, even of these impious wretches, 
at the descent of the Holy Ghost, were convinced of 
their miserable state; were wounded with penitential 
remorse ; fled to the sanctuary of the cross ; had their 
pardon ratified by the baptismal seal ; and, continuing 
in the apostles' doctrine, were made partakers of the 
kingdom of heaven ; where they now shine, as so 
many everlasting monuments of most distinguished 
mercy ; and receive beatitude past utterance, from 
that very Redeemer, whom once « with wicked hands, 
they crucified and slew.' 

Well might the prophet cry out, with a pleasing 
amazement; ' who is a God like unto thee, that par- 
doneth iniquity and passeth by transgression ?'* Let 
all flesh know assuredly ; let all flesh rejoice greatly; 
that with the Lord there is such mercy, and with his 
Christ such plentiful redemption. And O ! for the 
voice of an archangel, to circulate the glad tidings 
through the universe ; that the American savage, as 
well as the European sage, may learn the exceeding 
riches of grace in Christ ; through whose infinitely 
* Mic. vii. is. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 307 

satisfying propitiation, all manner of sin, barbarity, 
and blasphemy, are freely forgiven unto men. 

What a grand and majestic dome is the sky ! Where 
are the pillars which support the stately concave? 
What art, most exactly true, balances the pressure ? 
What props, of insuperable strength, sustain the 
weight? How is that immeasurable arch upheld, 
unshaken, and unimpaired; while so many genera- 
tions of busy mortals, have sunk and disappeared, as 
bubbles upon the stream ? If those stars are of such 
an amazing bulk, how are they also fastened in their 
lofty situation ? By what miracle in mechanics are so 
many thousands of ponderous orbs kept from falling 
upon our heads ; kept from dashing, both the world 
to pieces, and its inhabitants to death? Are they 
hung in golden or adamantine chains ? Rest they 
their enormous load on rocks of marble, or columns 
of brass ? No ; they are pendulous in fluid ether i 
yet, are more immoveably fixed, than if the everlast- 
ing mountains lent their forests for an axletree, or 
their ridges for a basis. The Almighty architect 
stretches out the north, and its whole starry train, 
over the empty place. He hangs the earth, and all 
the ethereal globes, upon nothing;* yet are their 
foundations laid so sure, that they can • never be 
moved at any time.' 

No unfit representation, to the sincere Christian, 
of his final perseverance; such as points out the 
cause which effects it, and constitutes the pledge 
which ascertains it. His nature is all enfeebled. He 
is not able, of himself, to think a good thought. He 
has no visible safeguard, nor any sufficiency of his 
own; and yet whole legions of formidable enemies 
* Job xx vi. 7. 



308 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

are in a confederacy to compass his ruin. The world 
lays unnumbered snares for his feet; the devil is in- 
cessantly urging the siege, by a multitude of fiery 
darts, or wily temptations ; the flesh, like a perfidious 
inmate, under colour of friendship, and a specious 
pretence of pleasure, is always forward to betray his 
integrity. But, amidst all these threatening circum- 
stances of personal weakness and imminent danger, 
an invisible aid is his defence. ' I will uphold thee,' 
says the blessed God, 'with the right hand of my 
righteousness.'* Comfortable truth ! The arm, which 
fixes the stars in their orders, and guides the planets 
in their course, is stretched out to preserve the heirs 
of salvation. — ' My sheep,' adds the great Redeemer, 
» are mine; and they shall never perish, neither shall 
any pluck them out of my hand.'t What words are 
these ! And did they come from him, who hath all 
power in heaven, and on earth ? And were they spoke 
to the weakest of the flock ; to every unfeigned fol- 
lower of the great Shepherd ? Then, Omnipotence 
itself must be vanquished, before they can be de- 
stroyed, either by the seductions of fraud, or the 
assaults of violence. 

If you ask, therefore, what security we have, of 
enduring to the end, and continuing faithful unto 
death ? The very same that establishes the heavens, 
and settles the ordinances of the universe. Can these 
be thrown into confusion ? £ Then may the true be- 
liever draw back into perdition. Can the sun be dis- 
lodged from his sphere, and rush lawlessly through 
the sky ? Then, and then only, can the faith of 
God's elect § be finally overthrown. Be of good cou- 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 309 

rage then, my soul ; rely on those divine succours, 
which are so solemnly stipulated, so faithfully pro- 
mised. Though thy grace be languid as the glim- 
mering spark ; though the overflowings of corruption 
threaten it with total extinction ; yet since the great 
Jehovah has undertaken to cherish the dim principle, 
' many waters cannot quench it, nor all floods drown 
it.' Nay, though it were feeble as the smoking flax, 
goodness and faithfulness stand engaged to augment 
the heat, to raise the fire, and feed the flame, till it 
beam forth a lamp of immortal glory to the heavens. 
As to the faithfulness of a covenanting God, this 
may be emblematically seen in the stability of the 
heavenly bodies, and the perpetuity of their motions.* 
Those that are fixed or stationary continue unalter- 
able in their grand elevations. No injurious shocks, 
no violence of conflicting elements, are able to dis- 
place those everlasting hinges, on which dependent 
worlds revolve. Through the whole flight of time, 
they recede not so much as a hair's breadth from the 
precise central point of their respective systems ; 
while the erratic or planetary perform their prodigi- 
ous stages without any intermission or the least em- 
barrassment. How soon and how easily is the most 
finished piece of human machinery disconcerted ! 
But all the celestial movement"; are so nicely adjusted, 
all their operations so critically proportioned, and 
their mutual dependencies so strongly connected, that 
they prolong their beneficial courses throughout all 
ages ; while mighty cities are overwhelmed with ruin, 
and their yery names lost in oblivion : while vast 
empires are swept from their foundations, and leave 
not so much as a shadowy trace of their ancient mag- 
* Psal. cxix. 89, 90. 



310 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

nificence: while all terrestrial things are subject to 
vicissitude, and fluctuating in uncertainty, these are 
permanent in their duration ; these are invariable in 
their functions ; * not one faileth.' Who doubts the 
constant succession of day and night, or the regular 
returns of summer and winter? And why, O! why 
shall we doubt the veracity of God, or distrust the 
accomplishment of his holy word ? Can the ordi- 
nances of heaven depart ? then only can God forget 
to be gracious, or neglect the performance of his pro- 
mise. Nay, our Lord gives us yet firmer ground of 
affiance. He affords us a surer bottom for our faith 
than the fundamental laws of the universe. Heaven 
and earth, he says, shall pass away; but my words 
shall not, in a single instance, or in one tittle of their 
import, pass away. No; his sacred word, whatever 
may obstruct it, whoever may oppose it, shall be 
fulfilled to the very uttermost. 

O powerful word ! how astonishing is its efficacy ! 
When this word was issued forth, a thousand worlds 
emerged out of nothing. Should the mighty orders 
be repeated, a thousand more would spring into 
existence. By this word, the vast system of created 
things is upheld in constant and immutable perfec- 
tion. Should it give command, or cease to exert its 
energy, the universal frame would be dissolved, and 
all nature revert to her original chaos. And this very 
word is pledged for the snfety, the comfort, the hap- 
piness of the godly. This inviolable, this almighty 
word speaks in all the promises of the gospel. How 
strangely infatuated are our souls, that we should 
value it so little ! What infidels are we in fact, that 
we should depend upon it no more! Did it create 
whatever has a being, and shall it not work faith in 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 311 

our breasts ? Do unnumbered worlds owe tbeir sup- 
port to this word, and shall it not be sufficient to 
buoy up our souls in troubles, or establish them in 
trials ? Is it the life of the universe, and shall it be 
a dead letter to mankind ? 

If I wish to be heard, when I implore heavenly 
blessings, is not this privilege most clearly made 
over to my enjoyment in that well-known text, ' Ask, 
and it shall be given you ?'* If I long for the Eternal 
Comforter to dwell in my heart, and sanctify my na- 
ture, have I not an apparent title to this high prero- 
gative conferred in that sweet assertive interrogation, 
* How much more shall your Heavenly Father give 
the Holy Spirit to those that ask him?'f If I ear- 
nestly covet the inestimable treasures that are com- 
prised in the great Immanuel's mediation, can I have 
a firmer claim to the noble portion than is granted in 
that most precious Scripture, » Him that cometh to 
me I will in no-wise cast out ?'$ What assurance of 
being interested in these unspeakable mercies would 
I desire ? What form of conveyance, what deed of 
settlement, were it left to my own option, should I 
choose ? Here is the word of a King, the King im- 
mortal and invisible, all whose declarations are truth 
itself. § If a monarch bestow immunities on a body 
of men, and confirm them by an authentic charter, 
no one controverts, no one questions their right to 
the royal favours. And why should we suspect the 
validity of those glorious grants, which are made by 
the everlasting Sovereign of nature, which he has 

* Matt. vii. 7. + Luke xi. 13. J John vl. 37. 

§ If these fail, 

The pillar'd firmament is rottenness. 

And earth's base built ou stubble.— Milt. Comue* 



312 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

also ratified by an oath, and sealed with the blood of 
his Son ? Corporations may be disfranchised, and 
charters revoked. Even mountains may be removed, 
and stars drop from their spheres : but a tenure, 
founded on the divine promise, is unalienably secure, 
is lasting as eternity itself. 

We have endeavoured to spell a syllable of the 
eternal name in the ancient manuscript of the sky. 
We have catched a glimpse of the Almighty's glory 
from the lustre of innumerable stars. But would we 
behold all his excellencies pourtrayed in full perfec- 
tion, and drawn to the very life, let us attentively 
consider the Redeemer. I observe there are some 
parts of the firmament in which the stars seem, as 
it were, to cluster ; they are sown thicker, they lie 
closer than usual, and strike the eye with redoubled 
splendour; like the jewels on a crown, they mingle 
their beams, and reflect an increase of brilliancy on 
each other. Is there not such an assemblage, such 
a constellation of the divine honours, most amiably 
effulgent in the blessed Jesus ? 

Does not infinite wisdom* shine with surpassing 
brightness in Christ? To the making of a world 
there was no obstacle; but to the saving of man, 
there seemed to be unsurmountable bars. If the 
rebel is suffered to escape, where is the inflexible 
justice which denounces • death as the wages of sin ?' 
If the offender is thoroughly pardoned, where is 
the inviolable veracity which has solemnly declared, 
* The soul that sinneth shall die ?' These awful at- 
tributes are set in terrible array, and, like an impe- 
netrable battalion, oppose the salvation of apostate 
mankind. Who can suggest a method to absolve the 
• See the next note. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 313 

traitorous race, yet vindicate the honours of Al- 
mighty Sovereignty? This is an intricacy, which 
the most exalted of finite intelligences are unable to 
clear. But behold the unsearchable secret revealed! 
revealed in the wonderful redemption, accomplished 
by a dying Saviour ! so plainly revealed, that * he 
who runs may read,' and even babes understand, 
what minds of the deepest penetration could not 
contrive. The Son of God, taking our nature, obeys 
the law, and undergoes death in our stead : by this 
means the threatened curse is executed in all its 
rigour, and free grace is exercised hi all its riches. 
Justice maintains her rights, and, with a steady hand, 
administers impartial vengeance; while Mercy dis- 
penses her pardons, and welcomes the repentant cri- 
minal into the tenderest embraces. Hereby the seem- 
ingly thwarting attributes are reconciled. The sinner 
is saved, not only in full consistence with the honour 
of the supreme perfections, but to the most illustri- 
ous manifestation of them all. 

Where does the divine power* so signally exert 
itself as in the cross of Christ, and in the conquests 
of grace ? Our Lord, in his lowest state of humilia- 
tion, gained a more glorious victory, than when, 
through the dividing sea and the waste howling wil- 
derness, ' he rode upon his chariots and horses of sal- 
vation.' When his hands were rivetted with irons 
to the bloody tree, he disarmed death of its sting, 
and plucked the prey from the jaws of hell. Then, 

* Christ, the wisdom of God, and the power of God. 1 Cor. 
i. 24.— To the intent that now, unto the principalities and 
powers in heavenly places, mi^ht be known bv the church 
(by tiie amazing contrivance and accomplishment of its re- 
deniDtioii ) the deep, extensive, and greatly diversified wisdom 
of God. Eph. iii. 10. 



314 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

even then, while he was crucified in weakness, he 
vanquished the strong man, and subdued our most 
formidable enemies; even then, he spoiled princi- 
palities, triumphed over the powers of darkness, and 
led captivity captive. Now he is exalted to his hea- 
venly throne, with what a prevailing efficacy does 
his grace go forth, • conquering, and to conquer !' 
By this, the slaves of sin are rescued from their bon- 
dage, and restored to the liberty of righteousness. 
By this, depraved wretches, whose appetites were 
sensual, and their dispositions devilish, are not only 
renewed, but renewed after the image of God, and 
made partakers of a divine nature. Millions, mil- 
lions of lost creatures are snatched, by the interposi- 
tion of grace, like brands from the burning, and, 
translated into everlasting mansions, shine brighter 
than the stars, shine bright as the sun, in the king- 
dom of their Father. 

Would you then see an incomparably more bright 
display of the divine excellence than the unspotted 
firmament, the spangles of heaven, or the golden 
fountain of day exhibit ? Contemplate Jesus of Na- 
zareth. He is the brightness of his Father's glory, 
and the express image of his person. In his imma- 
culate nature, in his heavenly tempers, in his most 
holy life, the moral perfections of the Deity are re- 
presented to the highest advantage.* Hark ! how 
Mercy, with her charming voice, speaks in all he 
utters. See ! how Benevolence pours her choicest 
stores in all he does. Did ever Compassion look 
so amiably soft as in those pitying tears, which 
swelled his eyes, and trickled down his cheeks, to 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 315 

bedew the rancour of his inveterate enemies ? Was 
it possible for Patience to assume a form so lovely 
as that sweetly-winning conduct, which bore the con- 
tradiction of sinners ; which entreated the obstinate 
to be reconciled? besought the guilty not to die? 
In other things we may find some scattered rays of 
Jehovah's glory ; but in Christ they are all collected 
and united. In Christ they beam forth with the 
strongest radiance, with the most delightful efful- 
gence. Out of Sion, and in Sion's Great Redeemer, 
hath God appeared in perfect beauty. 

Search then, my soul, above all other pursuits, 
search the records of redeeming love. Let these 
be the principal objects of thy study : here employ 
thyself with the most unwearied assiduity : in these 
are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge : * 
such wisdom, as charms and astonishes the very 
angels, engages their closest attention, and fills them 
with the deepest adoration: such knowledge, as 
qualifies the possessor, if not for offices of dignity on 
earth, yet for the most honourable advancements in 
the kingdom of heaven : disunited from which know- 
ledge, all application is but elaborate impertinence, 
and all science no better than pompous ignorance. 
These records contain the faultless model of duty, 
and the noblest motives to obedience. Nothing so 
powerful, to work a lively faith and joyful hope, as 
an attentive consideration of our Lord's unutterable 
merits : nothing so sovereign, to antidote the pesti- 
lential influence of the world, and deliver our affec- 
tions from a slavery to ignoble objects, as an habitual 
remembrance of his extreme agonies. The genuine, 
the ever-fruitful souce of all morality, is the un- 
* Coloss. n. 3. 



316 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

feigned love of Christ ; and the cross, the cross, is 
the appointed* altar, from which we may fetch a 
coalf to kindle this sacred fire. 

Behold, therefore, the man, the matchless and 
stupendous man, whose practice was a pattern of the 
most exalted virtue, and his person the mirror of 
every divine perfection. Examine the memoirs of 
his heavenly temper and exemplary conversation: 
contemplate that choir of graces, which were asso- 
ciated in his mind, and shed the highest lustre on all 
his actions : familiarize to your thoughts his instruc- 
tive discourses, and enter into the very spirit of his 
refined doctrines; that the graces may be transfused 
into thy breast, and the doctrines transcribed in th" 
life. Follow him to Calvary's horrid eminence, to 
Calvary's fatal catastrophe; where innocence, dignity 
and merit, were made perfect through sufferings ; 
each shining with all possible splendour through the 
tragical scene, somewhat like his own radiant bow, 
then glowing with the greatest beauty, when appear- 
ing on the darkest cloud. Be thy most constant at- 
tention fixed on that lovely and sorrowful spectacle. 
Behold the spotless victim, nailed to the tree, and 
stabbed to the heart : hear him pouring out prayers 
for his murderers, before he poured otit his soul for 
transgressors: see the wounds that stream with for- 
giveness, and bleed balm for a distempered world. 
O ! see the justice of the Almighty, and his good- 
ness; his mercy, and his vengeance; every tremen- 
dous and gracious attribute manifested ; manifested 
with inexpressible glory, in that most ignominious, 
yet grandest of transactions. 

* John xii. 33. t Alluding to Isaiah, yj. 6. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 317 

Since God is so inconceivably great, as these his 
marvellous works declare; 

' Since the great Sov'reign sends ten thousand worlds, 
To tell us, lie resides above them all, 
la glory's unapproachable recess ;* 

how can we forbear hastening, with Moses, bowing 
ourselves to the earth, and worshipping ? 

O ! what an honourable, as well as advantageous 
employ, is prayer ! — Advantageous : By prayer, we 
cultivate that improving correspondence with Jeho- 
vah, we carry on that gladdening intercourse with 
his Spirit, which must begin here, in order to be 
completed in Eternity. — Honourable: By prayer, we 
have access to that mighty potentate, whose sceptre 
sways universal nature, and whose rich regalia fills 
the skies with lustre. Prayer places us in his pre- 
sence-chamber ; while * the blood of sprinkling' pro- 
cures us a gracious audience. 

Shall I then blush to be found prostrate before the 
throne of grace ? Shall I be ashamed to have it known, 
that I offer up social supplications in the family, or 
am conscientious in observing my private retirements ? 
Rather, let me glory in this unspeakable privilege : 
let me reckon it the noblest posture, to fall low on 
my knees before his footstool ; and the highest ho- 
nour, to enjoy communion with his most exalted 
majesty 4 incomparably more noble, than to sit in 
person on the triumphal chariot, or to stand in effigy 
amidst the temple of worthies. 

Most inestimable, in such a view, is that promise, 
which so often occurs in the prophetic writings, and 
is the crowning benefit of the new covenant, I will 



318 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

be thy God.* Will this supremely excellent and Al- 
mighty Being vouchsafe to be my portion I To settle 
upon a poor sinner, not the heritage of a country, not 
the possession of the whole earth, but his own ever- 
blessed self? May I then, through his free conde- 
scending grace, and the unknown merits of his Son, 
look upon all these infinitely noble attributes as my 
treasure ? May I regard the wisdom, which super- 
intends such a multitude of worlds, as my guide; 
the power, which produced, and preserves them in 
existence, as my guard; the goodness, which, by an 
endless communication of favours, renders them all 
so many habitations of happiness, as my exceeding 
great reward ? what a fund of felicity is included in 
such a blessing ! How often does the Israelitish prince 
exult in the assurance, that this unutterable and 
boundless good is his own ? Interested in this, he 
bids defiance to every evil that can be dreaded; and 
rests in certain expectation of every blessing that can 
be desired. ' The Lord is my light, and my salva- 
tion; whom then shall I fear ?' * The Lord,' with an 
air of exultation he repeats both his affiance and his 
challenge, ' is the strength of my life ; of whom then 
shall I be afraid ?'f Nothing so effectual as this ap- 
propriating faith, to inspire a dignity of mind, supe- 
rior to transitory trifles ; or to create a calmness of 
temper, unalarmed by vulgar fears, unappalled by 
death itself. ' The Lord is my shepherd,' says the 
same truly gallant and heroic personage: 'therefore 
shall I lack nothing.!' How is it possible he should 
suffer want, who has the all-sufficient fulness for his 
supply ? So long as unerring wisdom is capable of 
contriving the means ; so long as uncontrollable powex 
* Hcb. viii. 10. t Psal. xxvii. 1. J Psai. xxiii. 1. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 319 

is able to execute them, such a one cannot fail of 
being safe and happy, whether he continue amidst 
the vicissitudes of time, or depart into the unchange- 
able eternity. 

Here let us stand a moment, and humbly contem- 
plate this great God together with ourselves, in a 
relative view. If we reflect on the works of mate- 
rial nature, their number incomprehensible, and their 
extent unmeasurable ; each of them apart, so ad- 
mirably framed ; the connexions of the whole so ex- 
quisitely regulated; and all derived from one and 
the same glorious agent— if we recollect the far more 
noble accomplishments of elegant taste and discern- 
ing judgment, of refined affections and exalted senti- 
ments, which are to be found among the several 
orders of intelligent existence ; and all of them flow- 
ing, in rich emanations, from the one sole fountain 
of intellectual light — if we farther consider this author 
of material beauty and moral excellency, as a guar- 
dian, a governor, and benefactor to all his creatures ; 
supporting the whole system, and protecting each 
individual by an ever watchful Providence ; presid- 
ing over the minutest affairs, and causing all events 
to terminate in the most extensive good ; heaping, 
with unremitted liberality, his benefits upon every 
capable object, and making the circuit of the uni 
verse a seminary of happiness — is it possible for the 
human heart, under such captivating views, to be in- 
different towards this most benign, most bountiful 
Original of being and of bliss; can any be so im- 
mersed in stupidity, as to say unto the Almighty, — 
in the language of an irreligious temper and licen- 
tious life to say, « Depart from us ; we implore not 
thy favour ; nox desire the knowledge of thy ways ?* 



320 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

Wonder, O Heavens ! be amazed, O Earth ! and let 
the inhabitants of both express their astonishment at 
this unparalleled complication of disingenuous, un- 
grateful, destructive perverseness ! 

If we consider our fallen and imperfect state ; frail 
in our bodies, enfeebled in our minds, in every part 
of our constitution, and in all the occurrences of life, 
•like a tottering wall, or a broken hedge' — if we sur- 
vey our indigent and infirm state, without holiness, 
without spiritual strength ; our possession of present 
conveniences, entirely dependent on God's sovereign 
pleasure; yea, forfeited, justly forfeited, with every 
future hope, by a thousand aggravated iniquities — 
if we add the various disasters of our condition ; agi- 
tated as we are by tumultuous passions, oppressed 
with dispiriting fears, held in suspense by a variety 
of perplexing cares ; liable to pains, and exposed to 
troubles; troubles from every quarter; troubles of 
every kind— can we, amidst so many wants, under 
such deplorable infirmities, and subject to such dis- 
astrous accidents — can we be unconcerned, whether 
God's omnipotent, irresistible, all-conducting hand, 
be against or for us ? Imagination itself shudders 
at the thought; can we rest satisfied, without a well- 
grounded persuasion that we are reconciled to this 
supreme Lord, and the objects of his unchangeable 
goodness ? If there be an abandoned wretch, whose 
apprehensions are so fatally blinded; who is so ut- 
terly lost to all sense of his duty, and of his interest ; 
let me bewail his misery, while I abhor his impiety ; 
bewail his misery, though popularity, with her choicest 
laurels, adorn his brow ; though affluence, with her 
richest delicacies, load his table; though half a nation 
or halt a world, conspire to call him happy. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 321 

May I, by a believing application, solace myself 
in this everlasting Source of love, perfection and joy ? 
Grant me this request, and I ask no more :— Only, 
that I may expect, not with a reluctant anxiety, but 
with a ready cheerfulness, the arrival of that impor- 
tant hour, when this veil of flesh shall drop, and the 
shadows of mortality flee away ; when I shall no 
longer complain of obscure knowledge, languid affec- 
tions, and imperfect fruition— but shall see the un- 
created and immortal Majesty ; see him, not in this 
distant unaffecting method of reasoning from his 
works, but with the most clear and direct intuition 
of the mind — when I shall love him, not with a cold 
and contracted spirit, but with the most lively and 
enlarged emotions of gratitude — when I shall inces- 
santly enjoy the light of his countenance? and be 
united, inseparably united, to his all-glorious god- 
head. Take, ye ambitious, unenvied, and unopposed, 
take to yourselves the toys of state. May I be ena- 
bled to rejoice in this blessed hope, and to triumph 
in that amiable, that adorable, that delightful name, 
the Lord my God! and I shall scarce bestow a 
thought on the splendid pagentry of the world, un- 
less it be to despise its empty pomp, and to pity its 
deluded admirers. 

All these bodies, though immense in their size, 
and almost infinite in their multitude, are obedient 
to the divine command. The God of wisdom ' telleth 
their numbers,' and is intimately acquainted with 
their various properties. The God of power, « calleth 
them all by their names, and assigns them whatso- 
ever office he pleases. — He marshals all the starry 
legions with infinitely greater ease, and nicer order, 
than the most expert general arranges his disciplined 



322 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

troops— He appoints their posts; he marks their 
route ; he fixes the time for their return. The posts 
which he appoints, they occupy without fail; in 
the route which he settles, they persevere, without 
the least deviation; and to the instant* which he 
fixes for their return, they are precisely punctual, — 
He has given them a law, which, through a long re- 
volution of ages, shall not be broken, unless his so- 
vereign will interposes for its repeal. Then, indeed, 
the motion of the celestial orbs is controlled; their 
action remains suspended ; or their influence receives 
a new direction. The sun, at his creation, issued 
forth with a command to travel perpetually through 
the heavens ; since which, he has never neglected to 
perform the great circuit, rejoicing asagiant, to 'run 
his race.' But when it is requisite to accomplish 
the purposes of divine love, the orders are counter- 
manded ; the flaming courier remits his career ; 
stands still in Gibeon;f and, for the conveniency of 
the chosen people, holds back the falling day. The 
moon was dispatched with a charge, never to inter- 
mit her revolving course till day and night come to 
an end. But when the children of Providence are 
to be favoured with an uncommon continuance of 
light, she halts in her march ; makes a solemn pause 
in the valley of Aijalon ;£ and delays to bring on her 

* 'The planets, and all the innumerable host of heavenly 
bodies, perform i heir courses and revolutions with so much 
certainty and exactness, as never once to fail : but for almost 
6000 years, come constantly about to the same period, in the 
hundredth part of a minute.' Staeklmu-e's Hist. Bible. 

+ This is spoken in conformity to the Scripture lansruajre, 
and according to the common notion. With respect to the 
power which effected th "' 
Uiing, and aiike miraculo 
supposed to move. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 323 

attendant train of shadows. — • When the enemies of 
the Lord are to be discomfited, the stars are levied 
into the service ; the stars are armed, and take the 
field; the stars, in their courses, fought against 
Si sera.'* 

So dutiful is material nature ! so obsequious, in 
all her forms, to her Creator's pleasure ! The bel- 
lowing thunders listen to his voice; and the volleyed 
lightnings observe the direction of his eye. The fly- 
ing storm and impetuous whirlwind wear his yoke. 
The raging waves revere his nod: they shake the 
earth; they dash the skies; yet never offer to pass 
the limits which he has prescribed. Even the pla- 
netary spheres, though vastly larger than this wide- 
extended earth, are, in his hand, as clay in the 
hands of the potter. Though swifter than the nor- 
thern blast, they sweep the long tracts of ether, yet 
are they guided by his reins, and execute whatever 
he enjoins. All those enormous globes of central fire 
which beam through the boundless azure, in compa- 
rison of which, an army of planets were like a swarm 
of summer insects ; those, even those, are conform- 
able to his will, as the melting wax to the impressed 
seal. Since all, all is obedient throughout the whole 
ascent of things, shall man be the only rebel against 
the Almighty Maker? Shall these unruly appetites 
reject his government, and refuse their allegiance? 
Shall these headstrong passions break loose from 
divine restraint, and run wild in exorbitant sallies, 
after their own imaginations ? 

O my soul, be stung with remorse, and over- 
whelmed with confusion, at the thought ! Is it not a 
righteous thing, that the blessed God should sway 
* J »d <r. v.20. 



324 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

the sceptre, with the most absolute authority, over 
all the creatures which his power has formed ? espe- 
cially over those creatures, whom his distinguishing 
favour has endued with the noble principle of reason, 
and made capable of a blissful immortality ? Sure, 
if all the ranks of inanimate existence conform to 
their Maker's decree, by the necessity of their na- 
ture, this more excellent race of beings should pay 
their equal homage by the willing compliance of 
their affections. Come then, all ye faculties of my 
mind; come, all ye powers of my body; give up 
yourselves without a moment's delay, without the 
least reserve, to his governance. Stand, like dutiful 
servants, at his footstool, in an everlasting readiness 
to do whatsoever he requires, to be whatsoever he 
appoints; to further, with united efforts, the pur- 
poses of his glory in this earthly scene; or else to 
separate, without reluctance, at his summons: the 
one, to sleep in the silent dust ; the other, to ad- 
vance his honour in some remoter colony of his king- 
dom. Thus may I join with all the works of the 
Lord, in all places of his dominion, to recognise his 
universal supremacy ; and proclaim him sovereign of 
Souls as well as Ruler of Worlds. 

At my first coming abroad, all these luminaries 
were eclipsed by the overpowering lustre of the sun ; 
they were all placed in the very same stations, and 
played the same sprightly beams ; yet not one of 
them was seen. As the day-light wore away, and 
the sober shades advanced, Hesperus, who leads the 
starry train, disclosed his radiant forehead, and 
catched my eye. While I stood gazing on his bright 
and beautiful aspect, several of his attendants peeped 
through the blue curtains. Scarce had 1 turned to 



THE STARRY" HEAVENS. 325 

observe these fresh emanations of splendour, but 
others dropped the veil, others stole into view. When 
lo ! faster and more numerous multitudes sprung from 
obscurity ; they poured in shining troops, and in sweet 
confusion, over all the empyrean plain : till the fir- 
mament seemed like one vast constellation, and ■ a 
flood of glory burst from all the skies.' 

Is not such the rise, and such the progress of a 
true conversion, in the prejudiced infidel, or inatten- 
tive sinner ? During the period of his vainer years, 
a thousand interesting truths lay utterly undiscovered ; 
a thousand momentous concerns were entirely dis- 
regarded ; but when divine grace dissipates the 
delusive glitter which dazzled his understanding, and 
beguiled his affections, then he begins to discern, 
dimly to discern, the things which belong unto his 
peace. Some admonition of Scripture darts convic- 
tion into his soul, as the glimmering of a star pierces 
the gloom of night: then, perhaps, another awful or 
cheering text impresses terror or diffuses comfort ; 
a threatening alarms his fears, or a promise awakens 
his hopes. This, possibly, is succeeded by some 
afflictive dispensation of Providence, and improved 
by some edifying and instructive conversation. All 
which is established as to its continuance, and en- 
larged as to its influence, by a diligent study of the 
sacred word. By this means, new truths continually 
pour their evidence ; scenes of refined and exalted, 
but hitherto unknown delight, address him with 
their attractives ; new desires take wing ; new pur- 
suits are set on foot ; a new turn of mind forms his 
temper; a new habit of conversation regulates his 
life. In a word, old things are passed away, and all 
things become new ; he, who was sometime darkness, 
is now light, and life, and joy in the Lord. 



326 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

The more attentively I view the crystal concave, 
the more fully I discern the richness of its decora- 
tions. Abundance of minuter lights, which lay con- 
cealed from a superficial notice, are visible on a closer 
examination : especially in those tracts of the sky 
which are called the galaxy, and are distinguishable 
by a sort of milky path. There the stars are crowded, 
rather than disseminated : the region seems to be all 
on a blaze with their blended rays. Besides this vast 
profusion, which in my present situation the eye dis- 
covers, was I to make my survey from any other part 
of the globe, lying nearer to the southern pole, I 
should behold a new choir of starry bodies, which 
have never appeared within our horizon. Was I 
(which is more wonderful), either here or there, to 
view the firmament with the virtuoso's glass, I should 
find a prodigious multitude of flaming orbs, which, 
immersed in depths of ether, escape the keenest un- 
assisted sight. Yet, in these various situations, even 
with the aid of the telescopic tube, I should not be 
able to descry the half, perhaps not a thousandth 
part of these majestic luminaries, which the vast ex- 
pansive heavens contain.* So, the more diligently I 
pursue my search into those oracles of eternal truth, 
the Scriptures, I perceive a wider, a deeper, an ever- 
increasing fund of spiritual treasures. I perceive the 
brighter strokes of wisdom, and the richer displays 

* How noble, considered in this view, are celebrations of 
the Divine Majesty, which frequently occur in the s.cred 
writings! 'It is the Lord that made the heavens.' I'sal. 
xcvi. 5. What a prodigious dignity does such a sense of 
things give to that devout ascription of praise ! 'Thou, eveii 
thou, art Lord alone: thou \r,\-i made heaven, the heaven of 
heavens, with all their host.' Neheni. i\. 6. Examined In this 
ruie, the beautiful climax in our inspired hymn is sublime 
beyond compare : ' I'rai-e him, sun and moon; pr.w-ehim, 
all' ye stars of light: praise him, ye heaven of heavens.' I'sal. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 327 

of goodness ; a more transcendent excellency in the 
illustrious Messiah, and a more deplorable vileness in 
fallen man ; a more immaculate purity in God's law, 
and more precious privileges in his gospel. Yet, after 
a course of study ever so assiduous, ever so prolonged, 
I should have reason to own myself a mere babe in 
heavenly knowledge; or, at most, but a puerile pro- 
ficient in the school of Christ. 

After all my most accurate inspection, those starry 
orbs appear but as glittering points. Even the planets, 
though so much nearer our earthly mansion, seem 
only like burning bullets. If, then, we have such im- 
perfect apprehensions of visible and material things, 
how much more scanty and inadequate must be our 
notions of invisible and immortal objects ! We be- 
hold the stars: though every one is incomparably 
bigger than the globe we inhabit, yet they dwindle, 
upon our survey, into the most diminutive forms. 
Thus, we see by faith the glories of the blessed Jesus; 
the atoning efficacy of his death ; the justifying merit 
of his righteousness ; and the joys which are reserved 
for his followers. But, alas ! even our most exalted 
ideas are vastly below the truth : as much below the 
truth, as the report which our eyes make of those 
celestial edifices, is inferior to their real grandeur. 
Should we take in all the magnifying assistances 
which art has contrived, those luminous bodies would 
elude our skill, and appear as small as ever. Should 
an inhabitant of earth travel towards the cope of 
heaven, and be carried forwards, in his aerial journey, 
more than a hundred and sixty millions of miles;* 

* This, incredible as it may seem, is not a mere supposi- 
tion, but a real Tact: for, about the twenty-first of December, 
we are about 160,000,000 of miles nearer the northern parts o/ 



328 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

even in that advanced situation, those oceans of flame 
would look no larger than radiant specks. In like 
manner, conceive ever so magnificently of the Re- 
deemer's honours, and of the bliss which he has pur- 
chased for his people ; yet you will fall short. Raise 
your imagination higher ; stretch your invention 
wider; give them all the scope which a soaring and 
excursive fancy can take ; still your conceptions will 
be extremely disproportionate to their genuine per- 
fections. Vast are the bodies which roll in the ex- 
panse of heaven : vaster far are those fields of ether, 
through which they run their endless round : but the 
excellency of Jesus, and the happiness laid up for his 
servants, are greater than either ; than both ; than 
all. An inspired writer calls the former • The un- 
searchable riches of Christ;' and styles the latter 'An 
exceeding great and eternal weight of glory.' 

If those stars are so many inexhaustible magazines 
of fire, and immense reservoirs of light, there is no 
reason to doubt but they have some very grand uses, 
suitable to the magnificence of their nature. To 
specify, or explain, the particular purposes they an- 
swer, is altogether impossible in our present state of 
distance and ignorance : this, however, we may clearly 
discern; they are disposed in that very manner which 
is most pleasing and most serviceable to mankind. 
They are not placed at an infinite remove, so as to 
lie beyond our sight; neither are they brought so 
near our abode, as to annoy us with their beams. We 
see them shine on every side : the deep azure, which 

the sky, than we were at the twenty-first of June, and vet, 
with regard to the stars situate in that quarter, we perceive 
no change in their aspect, nor any augmentation of their 
magnitude. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 329 

serves them as a ground, heightens their splendour ; 
at the same time, their influence is gentle, and their 
rays are destitute of heat : so that we are surrounded 
with a multitude of fiery globes, which beautify and 
illuminate the firmament, without any risk, either to 
the coolness of our night, or the quiet of our repose. 
Who can sufficiently admire that wondrous benignity, 
which, on our account, strews the earth with blessings 
of every kind, and vouchsafes to make the very hea- 
vens subservient to our delight ? 

It is not solely to adorn the roof of our palace with 
costly gildings, that God commands the celestial 
uminaries to glitter through the gloom: we also reap 
considerable benefits from their ministry. They divide 
our time, and fix its solemn periods. They settle the 
order of our works, and are, according to the desti- 
nations mentioned in sacred writ, « for signs, and for 
seasons; for days and for years.' The returns of heat 
tnd cold alone would have been too precarious a rule. 
j5ut these radiant bodies, by the variation, and also 
by the regularity of their motions, afford a method 
of calculating, absolutely certain, and sufficiently ob- 
vious. By this, the farmer is instructed when to com- 
mit his grain to the furrows, and how to conduct the 
operations of husbandry. By this, the sailor knows 
when to proceed on his voyage with least peril, and 
how to carry on the business of navigation with most 
success. 

Why should not the Christian, the probationer for 
eternity, learn from the same monitors, to number — 
for nobler purposes, to number his days ; and duly 
to transact the grand, grand affairs of his everlasting 
salvation ? Since God has appointed so many bright 
measures of our time, to determine its larger periods. 



S30 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

and to minute down its ordinary stages; sure, this 
most strongly inculcates its value, and should power- 
fully prompt us to improve it. Behold ! the supreme 
Lord marks the progress of our life in that most con- 
spicuous calendar above. Does not such an ordina- 
tion tell us, and in the most emphatical language, 
that our life is given for use, not for waste; that no 
portion of it is delivered, but under a strict account ; 
that all of it is entered, as it passes, in the divine 
register ; and, therefore, that the stewards of such a 
talent are to expect a future reckoning ? Behold ! 
the very heavens are bidden to be the accomptants of 
our years, and months, and days. O ! may this induce 
us to manage them with a vigilant frugality; to part 
•with them, as misers with their hoarded treasure, 
warily and circumspectly; and, if possible, as mer- 
chants with their rich commodities, not without an 
equivalent, either in personal improvement or social 
usefulness ! 

How bright the starry diamonds shine ! The ambi- 
tion of eastern monarchs could imagine no distinction 
more noble and suDlime than that of being likened 
to those beaming orbs.* They form night's richest 
dress ; and sparkle upon her sable robe, like jewels of 
the finest lustre : like jewels ! I wrong their character. 
The lucid stone has no brilliancy; quenched is the 
flame even of the golden topaz, compared with those 
glowing decorations of heaven. How widely are their 
radiant honours diffused ! No nation so remote, but 
sees their beauty, and rejoices in their usefulness. 
They have been admired by all preceding generations, 
and every rising age will gaze on their charms with 

* Numb. xxiv. 17. Dan. viii. 10. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 331 

renewed delight. How animating, then, "is that pro- 
mise made to the faithful ministers of the gospel ! 
* They that turn many to righteousness, shall shine 
as the stars for ever and ever.'* Is not this a most 
winning encouragement, 'to spend and he spent' in 
the service of souls ? Methinks, the stars beckon, as 
they twinkle. Methinks, they show me their splen- 
dours, on purpose to inspire me with alacrity in the 
race set before me ; on purpose to enliven my activity 
in the work than is given me to do. Yes ; ye majestic 
monitors, I understand your meaning. If honour has 
any charms ; i f true glory, the glory which cometh 
from God, is any attractive ; you display the most 
powerful incitements to exercise all assiduity in my 
holy vocation. I will henceforth observe your intima- 
tion ; and, when zeal becomes languid, have recourse 
to your heavenly lamps, if so be I may kindle its 
ardour at those inextinguishable fires. 

Of the Polar star it is observable, that while other 
luminaries alter their situation, this seems invariably 
fixed, f While other luminaries now mount the bat- 
tlements of heaven, and appear upon duty ; now re- 
tire beneath the horizon, and resign to a fresh set 
the watches of the night ; this never departs from its 
station. This, in every season, maintains an uniform 
position ; and is always to be found in the same tract 
of the northern sky. How often has this beamed 
bright intelligence on the sailor, and conducted the 
keel to the desired haven ! In early ages, those who 

* Dan. xii. 3. 

+ I speak in conformity to the appearance of the object: 
for, though this remarkable star revolves round the pole, its 
motion is so slow, and the circle it describes so small, as 
render both the revolution and change of situation hardly 
perceivable. 



332 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

went down to the sea in ships, and occupied their 
business in great waters, had scarce any other sure 
guide for their wandering vessel ! This, therefore, 
they viewed with the most solicitous attention : by 
this they formed their observations, and regulated 
their voyage. When this was obscured by clouds, or 
enveloped in mists, the trembling mariner was bewil- 
dered on the watery waste; his thoughts fluctuated 
as much as the floating surge, and he knew not where 
he was advanced, or whither he should steer. But, 
when this auspicious star broke through the gloom, 
it dissipated the anxiety of his mind, and cleared up 
his dubious passage: he re-assumed, with alacrity, 
the management of the helm, and was able to shape 
his course with some tolerable degree cf satisfaction 
and certainty. 

Such, only much clearer in its light, and much 
surer in its direction, is the Holy Word of God to 
those myriads of intellectual beings, who are bound 
for the eternal shores; who, embarked in a vessel of 
feeble flesh, are to pass the waves of this tempestuous 
and perilous world. In all difficulties, those sacred 
pages shed an encouraging ray ; in all uncertainties, 
they suggest the right determination, and point out 
the proper procedure. What is still a more ines- 
timable advantage, they, like the star which con- 
ducted the eastern sages, make plain the way of 
access to a Redeemer : they display his unspeakable 
merits; they discover the method of being interested 
in this great atonement; and lead the weary soul, 
tossed by troubles, and shattered by temptations, to 
that only harbour of peaceful repose. Let us, there- 
fore, attend to this unerring directory, with the 
6ame constancy of regard as the sea-faring man ob- 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 333 

serves his compass. Let us become as thoroughly ac- 
quainted with this sacred chart, as the pilot is with 
every trusty mark that gives notice of a lurking rock, 
?nd with every open road that yields a safe passage 
into the port. Above all, let us commit ourselves to 
this infallible guidance with the same implicit resig- 
nation; let us conform our conduct to its exalted 
precepts with the same sedulous care; as the children 
of Israel, when sojourning in the trackless desert, 
followed the pillar of fire, and the motion of the 
miraculous cloud. So will it introduce us, not into 
an earthly Canaan, flowing with milk and honey, but 
into an immortal Paradise, where is the fulness of 
joy, and where are pleasures for evermore. It will 
introduce us into those happy, happy regions, where 
our sun shall no more go down, nor our moon with- 
draw itself; for the Lord shall be our everlasting 
light, and the days of our mourning, together with 
the fatigues of our pilgrimage, shall be ended.* 

I perceive a great variety in the size and splendour 
of those gems of heaven. Some are of the first mag- 
nitude, others of an inferior order. Some glow with 
intense flames, others glimmer with fainter beams. 
Yet all are beautiful; all have their peculiar lustre, 
and distinct use; all tend, in their different degrees, 
to enamel the cope of heaven, and embroider the 
robe of night. This circumstance is remarked by an 
author, whose sentiments are a source of wisdom, 
and the very standard of truth. * One star,' says the 
apostle to the Gentiles, « differeth from another star 
in glory ; so also is the resurrection of the dead.' 

In the world above, are various degrees of happi- 

* Isai. lx. 20. 



334 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

ness, various seats of honour. Some will rise to 
more illustrious distinctions and richer joys;* some, 
like vessels of ample capacity, will admit more co- 
pious accessions of light and excellence. Yet there 
will be no want, no deficiency, in any, but a fulness 
both of divine satisfactions and personal perfections. 
Each will enjoy all the good, and be adorned with all 
the glory, that his heart can wish, or his condition 
receive. None will know what it is to envy. Not 
the least malevolence, nor the least selfishness, but 
everlasting friendship prevails, and a mutual com- 
placency in each other's delight. Love, cordial love, 
will give every particular saint a participation of all 
the fruitions which are diffused through the whole 
assembly of the blessed. No one eclipses, but each 
reflects light upon his brother. A sweet interchange 
of rays subsists, all enlightened by the great foun- 
tain, and all enlightening one another ; by which re- 
ciprocal communication of pleasure and amity, each 
will be continually receiving from, each incessantly 
adding to, the general felicity. 

Happy, supremely happy, they who are admitted 
into the celestial mansions. Better to be a door- 
keeper in those 'ivory palaces,' f than to fill the 
most gorgeous throne on earth. The very lowest 
place at God's right hand is distinguished honour 
and consummate bliss. O ! that we may, in some 
measure, anticipate the beatific state while we re- 
main in our banishment below ! May we, by re- 
joicing in the superior prosperity of another, make it 
our own! and, provided the general result is har- 
mony, be content, be pleased, with whatsoever part 

* I Cor. xv. 41, 42. t Psal. xlv. 8. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 335 

Is assigned to our share, in the universal choir of 
affairs. 

While I am considering the heavenly bodies, I 
must not entirely forget those fundamental laws of 
our modern astronomy, projection and attraction ; 
one of which is the all-combining cement, the other 
is the ever-operative spring of the mighty frame. In 
the beginning, the all-creating fiat impressed a pro- 
per degree of motion on each of those whirling orbs ; 
which, if not controlled, would have carried them on 
in straight lines and to endless lengths, till they were 
even lost in the abyss of space; but the gravitating 
property being added to the projectile force, deter- 
mined their courses to a circular* form ; and obliged 
the reluctant rovers to perform their destined rounds. 
Were either of those causes to suspend their action, 
all the harmoniously moving spheres would be dis- 
concerted, would degenerate into sluggish inactive 
masses, and, falling into the central fire, be burnt to 
ashes ; or else, would exorbitate into wild confusion, 
and each, by the rapidity of its whirl, be dissipated 

* I am aware the planetary orbs are not strictly circular, 
but rather elliptical. However, as they are but a small re- 
move from the perfectly round figure, and partake of it in- 
comparably more than the trajectories of the comets, 1 choose 
to represent the thing; in this view ; especially, because the 
notion of a circle is so much more intelligible to the gene- 
rality of readers than that of an ellipsis ; and because I laid it 
down for a rule, not to admit any such ab>trnse sentiment or 
difficult expression, as should demand a painful attention, in 
stead of raising an agreeable idea. For which reason, 1 have 
avoided technical terms, have taken no notice of Jupiter's sa 
tellites, or Saturn's ring ; have not so much as mentioned the 
names of the planets, nor attempted to wade into any depths 
of the science ; lest to those who have no opportunity of using 
the telescope, or of acquainting themselves with a sys t em of 
astronomy, I should propound riddles, rather than display 
entertaining and edifying truths. 



336 CONTEMPLATION'S ON 

into atoms. But the impulsive and attractive energy 
being most nicely attempered to each other, and un- 
der the immediate operation of the Almighty exerting 
themselves in perpetual concert, the various globes 
run their radiant races without the least interruption 
or the least deviation; so as to create the alternate 
changes of day and night, and distribute the useful 
vicissitudes of succeeding seasons; so as to answer 
all the great ends of a gracious Providence, and 
procure every comfortable convenience for universal 
nature. 

Does not this constitution of the material very na- 
turally lead the thoughts to those grand principles 
of the moral and devotional world, faith and love? 
These are often celebrated by the inspired apostle, 
as a comprehensive summary of the gospel.* These 
inspirit the breast, and regulate the progress of each 
private Christian. These unite the whole congrega- 
tion of the faithful to God and one another : to God, 
the great centre in the bonds of gratitude and devo- 
tion ; to one another, by a reciprocal intercourse of 
brotherly affections and friendly offices. If you ask, 
why is it impossible for the true believer to live at 
all adventures, to stagnate in sloth, or habitually to 
deviate from duty; we answer, it is owing to ■ his 
faith working by love.'f He assuredly trusts that 
Christ has sustained the infamy and endured the tor- 
ment due to his sins. He firmly relies on that divine 
propitiation for the pardon of all his guilt, and hum- 
bly expects everlasting salvation, as the purchase of 
his Saviour's merits. This produces such a spirit of 
gratitude, as refines his inclinations, and animates 
his whole behaviour. He cannot, he cannot run to 
* Col. i. 4. 1'liileni. ver. 5. + Gal. y. 6. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 337 

excess of riot, because love to his adorable Re- 
deemer, like a strong but silken curb, sweetly re- 
strains him; he cannot, he cannot lie lulled in a 
lethargic indolence, because love to the same infinite 
Benefactor, like a pungent but endearing spur, pleas- 
ingly excites him. In a word, faith supplies the 
powerful impulse, while love gives the determining 
bias, and leads the willing feet through the whole 
circle of God's commandments. By the united effi- 
cacy of these heavenly graces, the Christian conduct 
is preserved in the uniformity and beauty of holiness, 
as by the blended power of those Newtonian princi- 
ples, the solar system revolves in a steady and magni- 
ficent regularity. 

How admirable, how extensive, how diversified, is 
the force of this single principle, attraction !* This 
penetrates the very essence of all bodies, and diffuses 
itself to the remotest limits of the mundane system. 
By this, the worlds impressed with motion, hang 
self-balanced on their centres: and though orbs of 
immense magnitude, require nothing but this amaz- 
ing property for their support. To this we ascribe a 
phenomenon of a very different kind, the pressure 
of the atmosphere ; which, though a yielding and 
expansive fluid, yet, constipated by an attractive 
energy, surrounds the whole globe, and incloses every 
creature as it were with a tight bandage ; an expe- 
dient this, absolutely necessary to preserve the tex- 
ture of our bodies, and indeed to maintain every 
species of animal existence. Attraction ! Urged by 
this wonderful impetus, the rivers circulate, copious 
and unintermitted, among all the nations of the 
earth; sweeping with rapidity down the steeps, or 
* 1 mean the attractiou both of gravitation and cohesion. 



333 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

softly ebbing through the plains. Impelled by the 
same mysterious force, the nutritious juices are de- 
tached from the soil, and, ascending the trees, find 
their way through millions of the finest meanders, 
in order to transfuse vegetative life into all the 
branches. This confines the ocean within proper 
bounds: though the waves thereof roar, though they 
toss themselves with all the madness of indignant 
rage; yet, checked by this potent, this inevitable 
curb, they are unable to pass even the slightest bar- 
rier of sand. To this the mountains owe that un- 
shaken firmness, which laughs at the shock of career- 
ing winds, and bids the tempest, with all its mingled 
horrors, impotently rave : by virtue of this invisible 
mechanism, without the aid of crane or pulley, or 
any instrument of human device, many thousand 
tons of water are raised every moment into the re- 
gions of the firmament ; by this they continue sus- 
pended in thin air, without any capacious cistern to 
contain their substance, or any massy pillars to sus- 
tain their weight; by this same variously acting 
power, they return to the place of their natire resi- 
dence, distilled in gentle falls of dew, or precipitated 
in impetuous showers of rain; they slide into the 
fields in fleecy flights of snow, or are darted upon the 
houses in clattering storms of hail: this occasions 
the strong cohesion of solid bodies; without which 
our large machines could exert themselves with no 
vigour, and the nicer utensils of life would elude our 
expectations of service; this affords a foundation for 
all those delicate or noble mechanic arts, which fur- 
nish mankind with numberless conveniences both of 
ornament and delight: in short, this is the prodigioui 
ballast, which composes the equilibrium, and consti- 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 339 

tutes the stability of things ; this is the great chain 
which forms the connexions of universal nature; 
and the mighty engine which prompts, facilitates, 
and, in good measure, accomplishes all her opera- 
tions. What complicated effects from a single cause ! 
What profusion amidst frugality ! an unknown pro- 
fusion of benefits with the utmost frugality of ex- 
pense I 

And what is this attraction? Is it a quality, in 
its existence, inseparable from matter ; and, in its 
acting, independent on the Deity? Quite the re- 
verse : it is the very finger of God ; the constant im- 
pression of divine power ; a principle, neither innate 
in matter, nor intelligible by mortals. Does it not, 
however, bear a considerable analogy to the agency 
of the Holy Ghost in the Christian economy ? Are 
not the gracious operations of the blessed Spirit thus 
extensive, thus admirable, thus various? That Al- 
mighty Being transmits his gifts through every age, 
and communicates his graces to every adherent on 
the Redeemer ; all, either of illustrious memory, or 
of beneficial tendency ; in a word, « all the good that 
is done upon earth, he doth it himself.' Strong in 
his aid, and in the power of his might, the saints of 
all times have trod vice under their feet, have tri- 
umphed over this abject world, and conversed in 
heaven while they dwelt on earth. Not I, but the 
grace of God which was with me,* is the unanimous 
acknowledgment of them all. By the same kindly 
succours, the whole church is still enlightened, 
quickened, and governed. Through his benign in- 
fluences, the scales of ignorance fall from the under- 
standing, the leprosy of evil concupiscence is purged 
» i Cor. xv. 10. 



340 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

from the will, and the fetters, the more than adaman- 
tine fetters, of habitual iniquity, drop off from the 
conversation. He breathes even upon dry bones, 
and they live; they are animated with faith, they 
pant with ardent and heavenly desire, they exercise 
themselves with all the duties of godliness. His real, 
though secret inspiration, dissolves the flint in the 
impenitent breast, and binds up the sorrows of the 
broken heart ; raises the thoughts high in the eleva- 
tions of holy hope, yet lays them low in the humilia- 
tions of inward abasement; steels the soul with im- 
penetrable resolutions and persevering fortitude, at 
the same time softens it into a dove-like meekness, 
and melts it in penitential sorrow. 

When I contemplate those ample and magnificent 
structures, erected over all the ethereal plains ; when 
I look upon them as so many splendid repositories of 
light, or fruitful abodes of life; when I remember 
that there may be ether orbs, vastly more remote 
than those which appear to our unaided sight ; orbs, 
whose effulgence, though travelling ever since the 
creation, is not yet arrived upon our coasts : when 
I stretch my thoughts to the innumerable orders of 
being which inhabit all those spacious systems, from 
the loftiest seraph to the lowest reptile; from the 
armies of angels which surround the throne cf Jeho- 
vah, to the puny nations which tinge with blue the 
surface of the plum, or mantle the standing pool 
with green:— how various appear the links in this 
immense chain ! how vast the gradations in this uni- 
versal scale of existence ! Yet all these, though ever 
so vast and various, are the work of God's hand, and 
are full of his presence. 

He rounded in his palm those dreadfully large 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 341 

globes, which are pendulous in the vault of heaven. 
He kindled those astonishingly bright fires which fill 
the firmament with a flood of glory. By him they 
are suspended in fluid ether, and cannot be shaken ; 
by him they dispense a perpetual tide of beams, and 
are never exhausted. He formed, with inexpres- 
sible nicety, that delicately fine collection of tubes, 
that unknown multiplicity of subtile springs, which 
organize and actuate the frame of the minutest in- 
sect; he bids the crimson current roll, the vital 
movements play, and associates a world of wonders, 
even in an animated point.* In all these is a signal 
exhibition of creating power; to all these are ex- 
tended the special regards of preserving goodness. 
From hence let me learn to rely on the provi- 
dence, and to revere the presence of the Supreme 
Majesty. 

To rely on his providence. — For amidst that in- 
conceivable number and variety of beings which 
swarm through the regions of creation, not one is 
overlooked, not one is neglected by the great Omni- 

* There are living creatures, abundantly smaller than the 
mite. Mr. Bradley, in his Treatise on Gardening, mentions 
an insect, which, after accurate examination, lie found to be 
a thousand times less than the least visible strain of sand. 
Yet such an insect, though quite imperceptible t > the naked eye, 
is an elephant, is a whale, compared with other animalcules 
almost infinitely more minute, discovered by Mr. Lewenhoeck. 
If we consider the several limbs which compose such an or- 
ganized particle, the different muscles which actuate such 
a set of limbs, the How of spirits incomparably moie attenu- 
ated, which put those muscles in motion, the van us fiuiiis 
which circulate, the different secretions which are performed, 
together with the peculiar minuteness of the solids belore 
they arrive at their full growth: not to mention other more 
astonishing modes of diminution — sure, we shall have the 
utmost reason to acknowledge, that the adored Maker is 
'Maximus in minimis, greatly glorious even in his smallest 
works.' 3Q , 



342 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

potent Cause of all. However inconsiderabe in its 
character, or diminutive, in its size, it is still the 
production of Universal Maker, and belongs to 
the family of the Almighty Father. What though 
enthroned archangels enjoy the smiles of his coun- 
tenance ! Vet the low inhabitants of earth, the most 
despicable worms of the ground, are not excluded 
from his providential care. Though the manifesta- 
tion of his perfections is vouchsafed in holy and in- 
tellectual essences, his ear is open to the cries of the 
young raven ; his eye is attentive to the wants and 
to the welfare of the very meanest births of nature. 
How much less then are his own people disregarded ; 
those for whom he has delivered his beloved Son to 
death, and for whom he has prepared habitations of 
eternal joy ! They disregarded ! No ; they are « kept 
as the apple of an eye ;' the very hairs of their head 
are all numbered. The fondest mother may forget 
the infant that is " dandled upon her knees,' and sucks 
at her breast,* much sooner than the Father of ever- 
lasting compassions can discontinue or remit his 
watchful tenderness to his people, his children, his 
heirs. 

Let this teach me also a more lively sense of the 
divine presence. All the rolling worlds above, all 
the living atoms below, together with all the beings 
that intervene betwixt these wide extremes, are 
vouchers for an ever-present Deity. • God has not 
left himself without witness ;' the marks of his foot- 
steps are evident in every place, and the touches of 
his ringer distinguishable in every creature. Thy 
name is so nigh, O thou all-supporting, all-informing 
Lord, and that do thy wondrous works declare.f 
• Isai. xli\. 15. 1 Fsal. Ixxv. k 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 343 

Thy goodness warms in the morning sun, and re- 
freshes in the evening breeze; thy glory shines in 
the lamps of midnight, and smiles in the blossoms 
of spring. We see a trace of thy incomprehensible 
grandeur in the boundless extent of things ; and * 
sketch of thy exquisite skill in those almost evanes- 
cent sparks of life, the insect race. How stupid is 
this heart of mine, that, amidst such a multitude of 
remembrancers, thronging on every side, I should 
forget thee a single moment ! Grant me, thou great 
I AM, thou source and support of universal exist- 
ence !— O ! grant me an enlightened eye, to discern 
thee in every object, and a devout heart, to adore thee 
on every occasion. Instead of living without God 
in the world, may I be ever with him, and see all 
things full of him ! 

The gplitt'ring stars, 

By the deep ear of meditation heard, 

Still in their midnight watches sing- of Him. 

He nods a Calm. The tempest blows his wrath. 

The thunder is his voice ; and the red Hash 

His speedy sword of justice. At his touch 

The mountains flame. He shakes the solid earth, 

And rocks the nations. Nor in these alone, 

In ev'ry common instance God is seen.— Thomson's Spring. 

If the beautiful spangles, which a clear night pours 
on the beholder's eye; if those other fires, which 
beam in remoter skies, and are discoverable only by 
that revelation to the sight, the telescope; if all 
those bright millions, are so many fountains of day, 
enriched with native and independent lustre, illumi- 
nating planets, and enlivening systems of their own ; 
what pomp, how majestic and splendid, is disclosed 
in the midnight scenes ! What riches are disseminated 
through all those numberless provinces of the great 
Jehovah's empire ! Grandeur beyond expression ! 



344 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

Yet, there is not the meanest slave, but carries greater 
wealth in his own bosom, possesses superior dignity 
in his own person. The soul, that informs his clay ; 
the soul that teaches him to think, and enables him 
to choose; that qualifies him to relish rational pica- 
sure, and to breathe sublime desire ; — the soul, that 
is endowed with such noble faculties; and, above 
all, is distinguished with the dreadful, the glorious 
capacity, of being pained or blessed, for ever; this 
soul surpasses in worth, whatever the eye can see ; 
whatever of material the fancy can imagine. Before 
one such intellectual being, all the treasure and all 
the magnificence of unintelligent creation becomes 
poor and contemptible. For tfas soul, Omnipotence 
itself has waked, and worked, through every age. 
To convince this soul, the fundamental laws of na- 
ture have been controlled, and the most amazing 
miracles have alarmed all the ends of the earth. 
To instruct this soul, the wisdom of heaven has been 
transfused into the sacred page, and missionaries 
have been sent from the Great King, who resides in 
light unapproachable. To sanctify this soul, the 
Almighty Comforter takes the wings of a dove ; and, 
with a sweet transforming influence, broods on the 
human heart. And O ! to redeem this soul from guilt; 
to rescue it from hell ; the heaven of heavens was 
bowed, and God himself came down to dwell in dust. 
Let me pause awhile on this important subject. 
What are the schemes which engage the attention of 
eminent statesmen and mighty monarchs, compared 
with the grand interests of an immortal soul ? The 
support of commerce, and the success of armies, 
though extremely weighty affairs ; yet, if laid in the 
balance against the salvation of a soul, are lighter 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 345 

than the downy feather poised against talents of gold. 
To save a navy from shipwreck, or a kingdom from 
slavery, are deliverances of the most momentous na- 
ture which the transactions of mortality can admit. 
But O ! how they shrink into an inconsiderable trifle, 
if (their aspect upon immortality forgot) they are 
set in competition with the delivery of a single soul, 
from the anguish and horror of a distressed eter- 
nity ! 

Is such the importance of the soul ? What vigi- 
lance then can be too much ; or rather what holy 
solicitude can be sufficient, for the overseers of the 
Saviour's flock, and the guardians of this great, this 
venerable, this invaluable charge ? Since such is the 
importance of the soul, wilt thou not, O man, be 
watchful for the preservation of thy own ? Shall 
every casual incident awaken thy concern ; every 
transitory toy command thy regard , and shall the 
welfare of thy soul, a work of continual occurrence, 
a work of endless consequence, sue in vain, for thy 
serious care ? Thy soul, thy soul, is thy all. If this 
be secured, thou art greatly rich, and wilt be un 
speakably happy. If this be lost, a whole world ac 
quired will leave thee in poverty ; and all its delights 
enjoyed, will abandon thee to misery. 

I have often been charmed and awed, at the sight 
of the nocturnal heavens ; even before I knew how 
to consider them in their proper circumstance of ma- 
jesty and beauty. Something like magic has struck 
my mind, on a transient and unthinking survey of 
the ethereal vault ; tinged throughout with the purest 
azure, and decorated with innumerable starry lamps. 
I have felt, I know not what, powerful and aggran- 
dizing impulse, which seemed to snatch me from the 



346 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

low entanglements of vanity, and prompted an ardent 
sigh for sublimer objects, Methought I heard, even 
from the silent spheres, a commanding call, to spurn 
the abject earth, and pant after unseen delights. 
Henceforward, I hope to imbibe more copiously this 
moral emanation of the skies ; when, in some such 
manner as the preceding, they are rationally seen, 
and the sight is duly improved. The stars, I trust 
will teach as well as shine ; and help to dispel, both 
nature's gloom, and my intellectual darkness. To 
some people, they discharge no better a service than 
that of holding a flambeau to their feet, and soften- 
ing the horrors of their night. To me and my friends, 
may they act as ministers of a superior order : as 
counsellors of wisdom, and guides to happiness ! Nor 
will they fail to execute this nobler office, if they 
gently light our way into the knowledge of their 
adored Maker; if they point out, with their silver 
rays, our path to his beatific presence. 

I gaze, I ponder. I ponder, I gaze ; and think in- 
effable things. I roll an eye of awe and admiration. 
Again and again I repeat my ravished views, and 
can never satiate either my curiosity or my inquiry. 
I spring my thoughts into this immense field, till even 
fancy tires upon her wing ; I find wonders, ever new ; 
wonders more and more amazing. Vet, after all my 
present inquiries, what a mere nothing do I know ; 
by all my future searches, how little shall I be able 
to learn of those vastly distant suns, and their cir- 
cling retinue of worlds ! Could I pry with Newton's 
piercing sagacity, or launch into his extensive sur- 
veys; even then, my apprehensions would l>e little 
better than those dim and scanty in. ages which the 
mole, just emerged from her cavern, receives on her 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 347 

feeble optic. — This, sure, should repress all impatient 
or immoderate ardour to pry into the secrets of the 
starry structures, and make me more particularly 
careful to cultivate my heart. To fathom the depths 
of the Divine Essence ; or to scan universal nature, 
with a critical exactness, is an attempt, which sets 
the acutest philosopher very nearly on a level with 
the idiot; since it is almost, if not altogether, as im- 
practicable by the former as by the latter. 

Be it then, my chief study, not to pursue what is 
absolutely unattainable ; but rather to seek, what is 
obvious to find, easy to be acquired, and of inesti- 
mable advantage when possessed. O ! let me seek 
that charity, which edifieth;* that faith, which puri- 
fieth. Love, humble love, not conceited science, 
keeps the door of heaven. Faith, a child-like faith 
in Jesus ; not the haughty self-sufficient spirit, which 
6corns to be ignorant of any thing; presents a keyf 
to those abodes of bliss. This present state is the 
6cene destined to the exercise or devotion; the in- 
visible world is the place appointed for the enjoy- 
ment of knowledge. There, the dawn of our infan- 
tile minds will be advanced to the maturity of per- 
fect day ; or rather, there our midnight shades will 
be brightened into all the lustre of noon. There, the 
souls which come from the school of faith, and bring 
with them the principles of love, will dwell in light 
itself; will be obscured with no darkness at all ; will 
know, even as they are known.:}: Such an acquaint- 

* 1 Cor. viii. 1. 

+ The righteousness of Christ. This is what Milton beau- 
tifully styles 

The g-olrfen key 

That opes the palace ol eternity. 
t 1 Cor. xiii. 12. 



348 CONTEMPLATIONS ON 

ance, therefore, do I desire to form, and to carry on 
such a correspondence with the heavenly bodies, as 
may shed a benign influence on the seeds of grace 
implanted in my breast. Let the exalted tracks of 
the firmament sink my soul into deep humiliation ; 
let those eternal fires kindle in my heart an adoring 
gratitude to their Almighty Sovereign ; let yonder 
ponderous and enormous globes, which rest on his 
supporting arm, teach me an unshaken affiance in 
their incarnate Maker. Then shall I be — if not wise 
as the astronomical adept, yet wise unto salvation. 

Having now walked and worshipped in this uni- 
versal temple, that is arched with skies, emblazed 
with stars, and extended even to immensity; having 
cast an eye, like the enraptured patriarch;* an eye 
of reason and devotion, through the magnificent 
scene : with the former, having discovered an infini- 
tude of worlds; and with the latter, having met the 
Deity in every view ; having beheld, as Moses in the 
flaming bush, a glimpse of Jehovah's excellencies, 
reflected from the several planets, and streaming from 
myriads of celestial luminaries ; having read various 
lessons in that stupendous Book of Wisdom, f where 
unmeasurable sheets of azure compose the page, and 
orbs of radiance write in everlasting characters, a 
comment on our creed — What remains, but that I 
close the midnight solemnity, as our Lord concluded 
his grand sacramental institution, with a song of 
praise ? And behold a hymn, suited to the sublime 
occasion, indited by $ inspiration itself, transferred 

* Gen. xv. 5. 

+ For heaven 

Is as the Book of God before thee set, 
Wherein 'o read his wondrous works.— Milt. 

I Psal. xix. 



THE STARRY HEAVENS. 349 

Into our language by* one of the happiest efforts of 
human ingenuity. 

The spacious firmament on high, 
With all the blue ethereal sky, 
And spangled heav'ns, a shining frame, 
Their great Original proclaim : 
Th' unwearied sun from day today, 
Does his Creator's pow'r display ; 
And publishes to every land, 
The work of an Almig'hty hand. 

Soon as the ev'ning shades prevail, 
The moon takes up the wondrous tale ; 
And nightly, to the list'ning earth, 
Repeats the story of her birth ; 
While all the stars that round her burn, 
And all the planets in their turn, 
Confirm the tidings as they roll, 
And spread the truth from pole to pole. 

What, though, in solemn silence, all 
Move round the dark terrestrial ball? 
What though, nor real voice nor sound 
Amid theirradiant orbs be found! 
In reason's ear they all rejoice, 
And utter forth a glorious voice, 
Forever singing, as they shitie, 
The hand that made us, is divine. 

• Addison, Spec. vol. vi. No. 465. 



WINTER. PIECE. 



'Tis true, in the delightful seasons his tenderness and 
his love are most eminently displayed. In the vernal 
months, all is beauty to the eye, and music to the ear 
The clouds drop fatness ; the air softens into balm ; 
and flowers, in rich abundance, spring wherever we 
tread, bloom wherever we look. Amidst the burning 
heats of summer, he expands the leaves, and thickens 
the shades. He spreads the cooling harbour to receive 
us, and awakens the gentle breeze to fan us; the 
moss swells into a couch for the repose of our bodies, 
while the rivulet softly rolls and sweetly murmurs to 
soothe our imagination. In autumn, his bounty 
covers the fields with a profusion of nutrimental trea- 
sure, and bends the boughs with loads of delicious 
fruit; he furnishes his hospitable board with present 
plenty, and prepares a copious magazine for future 
wants. But is it only in these smiling periods of the 
year, that God, the all-gracious God, is seen? Has 
winter, stern winter, no tokens of his presence ? Yes ; 
all thmgs are eloquent of his praise. ' His way is in 
the whirlwind.' Storms and tempests fulfil his word, 
and extol his power. Even piercing frosts bear wit- 
ness to his goodness, while they bid the shivering 
nations tremble at his wrath. Be winter then, for a 
while, our theme. Perhaps those barren scenes may 



S52 A WINTER-PIECE, 

be fruitful of intellectual improvement. Perhaps, 
that rigorous cold, which binds the earth in icy chains, 
may serve to enlarge our hearts, and warm them with 
holy love. 

See ! how the day is shortened ! The sun, detained 
in fairer climes, or engaged in more agreeable ser- 
vices, rises, like an unwilling visitant, with tardy and 
reluctant steps. He walks, with a shy indifference, 
along the edges of the southern sky; casting an ob- 
lique glance, he just looks upon our dejected world, 
and scarcely scatters light through the thick air. Dim 
is his appearance, languid are his gleams, while he 
continues. Or, if he chance to wear a brighter aspect, 
and a cloudless brow ; yet, like the young and gay 
in the house of mourning, he seems uneasy til) he is 
gone; is in haste to depart. And let him depart. 
Why should we wish for his longer stay, since he can 
show us nothing but the Creation in distress ? The 
flowery families lie dead, and the tuneful tribes are 
struck dumb. The trees, stripped of their verdure, 
and lashed by storms, spread their naked arms to the 
enraged and relentless heavens. Fragrance no longer 
floats in the air ; but chilling damps hover, or cutting 
gales blow. Nature, divested of all her beautiful 
robes, sits like a forlorn disconsolate widow, in her 
■weeds; while winds in doleful accents howl, and rains 
in repeated showers, weep. 

We regret not, therefore, the speedy departure of 
the day. When the room is hung with funeral black, 
and dismal objects are all round, who would desiro 
to have the glimmering taper kept alive, which can 
only discover spectacles of sorrow, can only make the 
horror visible ? And, since this mortal life is little 
better than a continual conflict with sin, or an un- 



A WINTER-PIECE. 353 

remitted struggle with misery; is it not a gracious 
ordination which has reduced our age to a span ? 
Fourscore years of trial for the virtuous are sufficiently 
long; and more than such a term, allowed to the 
wicked, would render them beyond all measure vile. 
Our way to the kingdom of heaven lies through tri- 
bulations. Shall we then accuse, shall we not rather 
bless, the Providence, which has made the passage 
short? Soon, soon we cross the vale of tears, and 
then arrive on the happy hills, where light for ever 
shines, where joy for ever smiles. 

Sometimes the dav ■■ rendered shorter still, is 
almost blotted out Irom the year. The vapours 
gather, they thicken into an impenetrable gloom, and 
obscure the face of the sky. At length the rains de- 
scend, the sluices of the firmament are opened, and 
the low-hung clouds pour their congregated stores. 
Copious and unintermitted, still they pour, and still 
are unexhausted. The waters drop incessantly from 
the eaves, and rush in rapid streams from the spouts. 
They roar along the channelled pavements, and stand 
in foul shallows amidst the village streets. Now, if 
the inattentive eye or negligent hand has left the 
roof but scantily covered, the insinuating element 
finds its way into every flaw, and, oozing through the 
ceiling, at once upbraids and chastises the careless in- 
habitant. The ploughman, soaked to the skin, leave3 
his half-tilled acre. The poor poultry, dripping with 
wet, crowd into shelter. The tenants of the bough 
fold up their wings, afraid to launch into the stream- 
ing air. The beasts, joyless and dispirited, ruminate 
under their sheds. The roads swim, and the brooks 
swell. The river, amidst all this watery ferment, long 
contained itself within its appointed bounds; but, 
31* 



354 A WINTER-PIECE. 

swollen by innumerable currents, and roused, at last, 
into uncontrollable rage, bursts over its banks, shoots 
into the plain, bears down all opposition, spreads 
itself far and wide, and buries the meadow under a 
brown, sluggish, soaking deluge. 

How happy for man, that this inundation comes, 
when there are no flowery crops in the valley to be 
overwhelmed; no fields standing thick with corn to 
be laid waste ! At such a juncture, it would have 
been ruin to the husbandman and his family ; but, 
thus timed, it yields manure for his ground, and pro- 
mises him riches in reversion. How often, and how 
long, has the Divine Majesty bore with the most in- 
jurious affronts from sinners ! His goodness triumphed 
over their perverseness, and graciously refused to be 
exasperated. But, O presumptuous creatures, mul- 
tiply no longer your provocations. Urge not, by re- 
peated iniquities, the Almighty arm to strike; lest 
his long-suffering cease, and his fierce anger break 
forth, like a flood of waters,* and sweep you away 
into irrecoverable and everlasting perdition. 

How mighty! how majestic! and O! how mys- 
terious, are thy works, thou God of heaven and Lord 
of nature ! When the air is calm, where sleep the 
stormy winds ? In what chambers are they reposed, 
or in what dungeons confined ; till thou art pleased 
to awaken their rage, and throw open their prison 
doors? Then, with irresistible impetuosity they fly 
forth, scattering dread and menacing destruction. 

The atmosphere is hurled into the most tumultuous 

confusion. The aerial torrent bursts its way over 

mountains, seas, and continents. All things feel the 

dreadful shock. All things tremble before the furious 

• Hos. v. 10. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 355 

blast. The forest, vexed and tore, groans under the 
scourge. Her sturdy sons are strained to the very 
root, and almost sweep the soil, they were wont to 
shade. The stubborn oak, that disdains to bend, is 
dashed headlong to the ground ; and, with shattered 
arms, with prostrate trunk, blocks the road; while the 
flexile reed, that springs up in the marsh, yielding to 
the gust (as the meek and pliant temper, to injuries, 
or the resigned and patient spirit, to misfortunes), 
eludes the force of the storm, and survives amidst the 
wide-spread havoc. 

For a moment, the turbulent and outrageous sky 
seems to be assuaged; but it intermits its wrath, 
only to increase its strength. Soon the sounding 
squadrons of the air return to the attack, and renew 
their ravages with redoubled fury. The stately dome 
rocks amidst the wheeling clouds. The impregnable 
tower totters on its basis ; and threatens to over- 
whelm, whom it was intended to protect. The ragged 
rock is rent in pieces;* and even the hills, the per- 
petual hills, on their deep foundations, are scarcely 
secure. Where, now, is the place of safety, when 
the city reels, and houses become heaps? Sleep 
affrighted flies. Diversion is turned into horror. All 
is uproar in the element; all is consternation among 
mortals; and nothing but one wide scene of rueful 
devastation through the land. Yet, this is only an 
inferior minister of divine displeasure ; the execu- 
tioner of milder indignation. How then,— O ! how 
will the lofty looks of man be humbled, and the 
haughtiness of men be bowed down ; when the Lord 
God Omnipotent shall meditate terror— when he shall 

* 1 Kings xix. 11. 



356 A WINTER-PIECE. 

set all his terrors in array— when he arises, to judge 

the nations, and to shake terribly the earth ! 

The ocean swells with tremendous commotions. 
The ponderous waves are heaved from their capa- 
cious bed, and almost lay bare the unfathomable 
deep. Flung into the most rapid agitation, they 
sweep over the rocks ; they lash the lofty cliffs ; and 
toss themselves into the clouds. Navies are rent 
from their anchors; and, with all their enormous 
load, are whirled, swift as the arrow, wild as the 
winds, along the vast abyss. Now they climb the 
rolling mountain; they plough the frightful ridge, 
and seem to skim the skies. Anon, they plunge into the 
opening gulf; they lose the sight of day ; and are lost 
themselves to every eye. How vain is the pilot's 
art ! how impotent the mariner's strength ! They 
reel to and fro, and stagger in the jarring hold ; or 
cling to the cordage, while bursting seas foam over 
the deck. Despair is in every face, and death sits 
threatening on every surge. But why, O ye astonished 
mariners, why should you abandon yourselves to 
despair? Is the Lord's hand shortened, because the 
waves of the sea rage horribly ? Is his ear deafened 
by the roaring thunders and the bellowing tempest ? 
Cry, cry unto him, who 'holdeth the winds in his 
fist, and the waters in the hollow of his hand.' He is 
all gracious to hear, and almighty to save. If he 
command, the storm shall be hushed to silence; the 
billows shall subside into a calm ; the lightnings shall 
lay their fiery bolts aside ; and, instead of sinking in 
a watery grave, you shall find yourselves brought to 
the desired haven. 

Sometimes, after a joyless day, a more dismal night 
succeeds. The lazy, lowering vapours had wove so 



A WINTER-PIECE. 357 

thick a veil, as the meridian sun could scarcely pene- 
trate. What gloom then must overwhelm the noc- 
turnal hours ! The moon withdraws her shining. 
Not a single star is able to struggle through the deep 
arrangement of shades. All is pitchy darkness, with- 
out one enlivening ray. How solemn ! how awful ! 
'Tis like the shroud of nature, or the return of chaos. 
I don't wonder that it is ihe parent of terrors, and so 
apt to engender melancholy. Lately, the tempest 
marked its rapid way with mischief; now the night 
dresses her silent pavilion with horror. 

I have sometimes left the beaming tapers, with- 
drawn from the ruddy fire, and plunged into the 
thickest of the^e sooty shades, without regretting the 
change, rather exulting in it as a welcome deliverance. 
The very gloom was pleasing, was exhilarating, com- 
pared with the conversation I quitted. The speech of 
my companions (how does it grieve me, that I should 
even once have occasion to call them by that name ') 
was the language of darkness ; was horror to the soul, 
and torture to the ear. Their teeth were spears and 
arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword, to stab and 
assassinate their neighbours' character. Their throat 
was an open sepulchre, gaping to devour the reputa- 
tion of the innocent, or tainting the air with their 
virulent and polluted breath. Sometimes, their 
licentious and ungovernable discourse shot arrows of 
profaneness against heaven itself; and, in proud 
defiance, challenged the resentment of Omnipotence. 
Sometimes, as if it was tne glory of human nature 
to cherish the grossest appetites of the brute, or the 
mark of a gentleman to have served an apprentice- 
ship in a brothel; the filthiest jests of the stews (if 
low obscenity can be a jest) were nauseously obtruded 
on the company. Ail the modest part were offended 



358 A WINTER-PIECE, 

and grieved ; while the other besotted creatures 
laughed aloud, though the leprosy of uncleanness ap- 
peared on their lips. Are not these persons prisoners 
of darkness ; though blazing sconces pour artificial 
day through their rooms ? Are not their souls im- 
mured in the most baleful shades; though the noon- 
tide sun is brightened, by flaming on their gilded 
chariots ? They discern not that great and adorable 
Being, who fills the universe with his infinite and 
glorious presence; who is all eye to observe their 
actions, all ear to examine their words. They know 
not the all-sufficient Redeemer, nor the unspeakable 
blessedness of his heavenly kingdom. They are 
groping for the prize of happiness, but will certainly 
grasp the thorn of anxiety. They are wantonly 
sporting on the brink of a precipice; and are every 
moment in danger of falling headlong into irretriev- 
able ruin and endless despair. 

They have forced me out, and are, perhaps, de- 
riding me in my absence ; are charging my reverence 
for the ever-present God, and my concern for the 
dignity of our rational nature, to the account of 
humour and singularity, to narrowness of thought or 
sourness of temper. Be it so. I will indulge no 
indignation against them. If any thing like it should 
arise, I will convert it into prayer — « Pity them, O 
thou Father of Mercies ! Show them the madness of 
their profaneuess ! Show them the baseness of their 
vile ribaldry ! Let their dissolute rant be turned into 
silent sorrow and confusion ; till they open their lips 
to adore thine insulted majesty, and to implore thy 
gracious pardon ; till they devote to thy service, those 
social hours, and those superior faculties, which they 
are now abusing — to the dishonour of thy name — to 
the contamination of their own souls— and (unless 



A WINTER-PIECE. 359 

timely repentance intervene) to their everlasting in- 
famy and perdition.' 

I ride home amidst the gloomy void. All darkling 
and solitary, I can scarce discern my horse's head • 
and only guess out my blind road. No companion 
but danger, or perhaps ' destruction ready at my 
side.'* But why do I fancy myself solitary ? Is not 
the Father of Lights, the God of my life, the great 
and everlasting Friend, always at my right hand ? 
Because the day is excluded, is his Omnipresence 
vacated ? Though I have no earthly acquaintance 
near, to assist in case of a misfortune; or to beguile 
the time, and divert uneasy suspicions, by entertain- 
ing conferences; may I not lay my help upon the 
Almighty, and converse with God by humble suppli- 
cation ? For this exercise, no place is improper, no 
hour unseasonable, and no posture incommodious. 
This is society, the best of society, even in solitude. 
This is a fund of delights, easily portable, and quite 
inexhaustible. A treasure this, of unknown value ; 
liable to no hazard from wrong or robbery ; but per- 
fectly secure to the lonely wanderer in the most 
darksome paths. 

And why should I distress myself with apprehen- 
sions of peril ? This access to God is not only an in- 
defeasible privilege, but a kind of ambulatory garri- 
son. Those who make known their requests unto 
God, and rely upon his protecting care, he gives his 
angels charge over their welfare. His angels are 
commissioned to escort them in their travelling, and 
to hold up their goings, that they dash not their foot 
against a stone. | Nay, he himself condescends to 

• Job xviii. ia. + Psal. xci. II, 12. 



360 A WINTER-PIECE. 

be their guardian, and * keeps all their bones, so that 
not one of them is broken.' Between these persons 
and the most mischievous objects, a treaty of peace 
is concluded. The articles of this grand alliance are 
recorded in the book of revelation ; and will, when it 
is for the real benefit of believers, assuredly be made 
good in the administration of providence. In that 
day, saith the Lord, will I make a covenant for them 
with the beasts of the field, and with the fowls of 
heaven, and with the creeping things of the ground ; 
and they shall be in league with the stones of the 
field.* Though they fall headlong on the flints ; 
even the flints, fitted tr fvacture the skull, shall re- 
ceive them as into the arms of friendship ; and not 
offer to hurt whom the Lord is pleased to preserve. 

May I then enjoy the presence of this gracious 
God, and darkness and light shall be both alike. 
Let him whisper peace to my conscience ; and this 
dread silence shall be more charming than the voice 
of eloquence, or the strains of music. Let him re- 
veal his ravishing perfections in my soul, and I shall 
not want the saffron beauties of the morn, the golden 
glories of noon, or the impurpled evening sky. I 
shall sigh only for the most desirable and distin- 
guished realms ; where the light of his countenance 
perpetually shines, and consequently • there is f no 
night there.' 

How surprising are the alterations of nature ! I 
left her, the preceding evening, plain and unadorned. 
But now a thick rime has shed its hoary honours over 
all. It has shagged the fleeces of the sheep, and 
crisped the traveller's locks. The hedges are richly 
fringed, and all the ground is profusely powdered. 
* Job v. 23. Hos. ii. la. + Rev. xxi. 35. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 361 

The downward branches are tasselled with silver, and 
the upright are feathered with the plumy wave. 

The fine are not always the valuable. The air, 
amidst all these gaudy decorations, is charged with 
chilling and unwholesome damps. The raw hazy 
influence spreads wide, sits deep, hangs heavy and 
oppressive on the springs of life. A listless languor 
clogs the animal functions, and the purple stream 
glides but faintly through its channels. In vain, the 
ruler of the day exerts his beaming powers; in vain, 
he attempts to disperse this insurrection of vapours. 
The sullen, malignant cloud refuses to depart. It 
envelops the world, and intercepts the prospect. I 
look abroad for the neighbouring village ; I send my 
eye in quest of the rising turret ; but am scarce able 
to discern the very next house. Where are the blue 
arches of heaven ? Where is the radiant countenance 
of the sun ? Where the boundless scenes of Creation ? 
Lost, lost are their beauties, quenched their glories. 
The thronged theatre of the universe seems an empty 
void, and all its elegant pictures an undistinguised 
blank. Thus would it have been with our intellec- 
tual views, if the gospel had not come in to our re- 
lief. We should have known, neither our true good, 
nor real evil. We had been a riddle to ourselves; 
the present state all confusion, and the future impe- 
netrable darkness. But the Sun of Righteousness, 
arising with potent and triumphant beams, has dis- 
sipated the interposing cloud, has opened a prospect 
more beautiful than the blossoms of spring, more 
cheering than the treasures of autumn, and far more 
enlarged than the extent of the visible system ; which, 
having led the eye of the mind through fields of 
grace, over rivers of righteousness, and hills crowned 



362 A VINTER-PIECE. 

with knowledge, terminates at length in the heavens, 
sweetly losing itself in regions of infinite bliss and 
endless glory. 

As I walk along the fog, it seems, at some little 
distance, to be almost solid gloom; such as would 
shut out every glimpse of light, and totally imprison 
me in obscurity. But when I approach and enter 
it, I find myself agreeably mistaken, and the mist 
much thinner than it appeared. Such is the case 
with regard to the sufferings of the present life; they 
are not, when experienced, so dreadful as a timorous 
imagination surmised. Such also is the case with 
reference to the gratifications of sense; they prove 
not, when enjoyed, so substantial, as a sanguine ex- 
pectation represented. In both instances we are 
graciously disappointed. The keen edge of the ca- 
lamity is blunted, that it may not wound us with in- 
curable anguish: the exquisite relish of the prospe- 
rity is palled, that it may not captivate our affections, 
and enslave them to inferior delights. 

Sometimes, the face of things wears a more pleasing 
form ; the very reverse of the foregoing. The sober 
evening advances to close the short-lived day. The 
firmament, clear and unsullied, puts on its brightest 
blue. The stars, in thronging multitudes, and with a 
peculiar brilliancy, glitter through the fair expanse; 
while the frost pours its subtile and penetrating influ- 
ence all around. Sharp and intensely severe, all the 
long night the rigid ether continues its operations. 
When, late and slow, the morning opens her pale eye, 
in what a curious and amusing disguise is nature 
dressed ! The icicles, jagged and uneven, are pendent 
on the houses. A whitish film incrusts the windows, 
where mimic landscapes rise, and fancied figures 



A WINTER-PIECE. 363 

swelL The fruitful fields are hardened to iron ; the 
moistened meadows are congealed to marble; and 
both resound (an effect unknown before) with the 
peasant's hasty tread. The stream is arrested in its 
career, and its ever-flowing surface chained to the 
banks. The fluid paths become a solid road; where 
the finny shoals were wont to rove, the sportive youth 
slide, or the rattling chariots roll. And, (what would 
seem, to an inhabitant of the southern world, as un- 
accountable as the deepest mysteries of our religion,) 
that very same breath of heaven, which cements the 
lakes into a crystal pavement, cleaves the oaks as it 
were with invisible wedges ; ' breaks in pieces the 
northern iron, and the steel;' even while it builds a 
bridge of icy rock over the seas-* 

The air is all serenity. Refined by the nitrous 
particles, it affords the most distinct views, and ex- 
tensive prospects. The seeds of infection are killed, 
and the pestilence destroyed, even in embryo. So, 
the cold of affliction tends to mortify our corruptions, 
and subdue our vicious habits. The crowding atmo- 
sphere constringes our bodies, and braces our nerves. 
The spirits are buoyant, and sally briskly on the exe- 
cution of their office. In the summer months, such 
an unclouded sky, and so bright a sun, would have 
melted us with heat, and softened us into supineness. 
We should have been ready to throw our limbs under 
the spreading beech, and to lie at ease by the mur- 
muring brook. But, now, none loiters in his path ; 

* Job xxxviii. 30. The waters are hid, locked up from the 
cattle's lip, and secured from the fisher's net, as wells were 
wont to be closed with a ponderous and impenetrable stone; 
and not only lakes and rivers, but the surface of the greal 
deep, with its restless and uncontrollable surges, is taken cap- 
tive by the frost and bound in shining fetter*. 



364 A WINTER-PIECE. 

none is seen with folded arms. All is in motion ; all 
is activity. Choice, prompted by the weather, sup- 
plies the spur of necessity. Thus, the rugged school 
of misfortune often trains up the mind to a vigorous 
exertion of its faculties. The bleak climate of ad- 
versity often inspirits us with a manly resolution; 
when a soft and downy affluence, perhaps, would 
have relaxed all the generous springs of the soul, and 
have left it enervated with pleasure, or dissolved in 
indolence. 

• Cold, cometh out of the north.' The winds having 
swept those deserts of snow, arm themselves with 
millions of frozen particles, and make a fierce descent 
upon our isle. Under black and scowling clouds, 
they drive, dreadfully whizzing, through the dark- 
ened air : they growl around our houses, assault out 
doors, and, eager for entrance, fasten on our windows. 
Walls can scarce restrain them, bars are unable to 
exclude them ; through every cranny they force their 
way. Ice is on their wings ; they scatter agues 
through the land ; and winter, all winter, rages as 
they go. Their breath is as a searing* iron to the 
little verdure left in the plains ; vastly more perni- 
cious to the tender plants than the sharpest knife, 
they kill their branches, and wound the very root. 
Let not the corn venture to peep too freely from the 
entrenchment of the furrow ; let not the fruit-bearing 
blossoms dare to come abroad from their lodgment in 
the bark; lest these murderous blasts intercept and 

* This, I suppose, is the meaning of that figurative expres 
sion used by the prophet Habakkuk; who, spe.iking of the 
Chaldeans invading Judea, says, ' Their faces, or the incur- 
sions they make, shall sup up, shall swallow greedily, shall 
devour utterly, the inhabitants of the country, and their va- 
luable effects'; as the keen, corroding blasts of the east wind, 
destroy every green thing in the field.' Hab. i. 9. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 365 

seize the unwary strangers, and destroy the hopes of 
the advancing year. 

O, 'tis severely cold ! Who is so hardy, as not to 
shrink at this excessively pinching weather ? See ! 
every face is pale : even the blooming cheeks con- 
tract a gelid hue ; and the teeth hardly forbear chat- 
tering. Ye that sit easy and joyous amidst your com- 
modious apartments, solacing yourselves in the dif- 
fusive warmth of your fire, be mindful of your bre- 
thren in the cheerless tenement of poverty. Their 
shattered panes are open to the piercing winds ; a 
tattered garment scarcely covers their shivering flesh, 
while a few faint and dying embers on the squalid 
heath rather mock their wishes than warm their 
limbs. While the generous juices of Oporto sparkle 
in your glasses; or the streams, beautifully tinged 
and deliciously flavoured with the Chinese leaf, smoke 
in the elegant porcelain ; O remember, that many of 
your fellow-creatures, amidst all the rigour of these 
inclement skies, are emaciated with sickness, be- 
numbed with age, and pining with hunger. Let 
* their loins bless you,' for comfortable clothing ; re- 
store them with medicine; regale them with food; 
and baffle the raging wind. So may you never know 
any of their distresses, but only by the hearing of the 
ear, the seeing of the eye, or the feeling of a tender 
commiseration ! Methinks, the bitter blustering 
winds plead for the poor indigents. May they breathe 
pity into your breasts, while they blow hardships into 
their huts ! Observe those blue flames and ruddy 
coals in your chimney : quickened by the cold, they 
look more lively, and glow more strongly : silent but 
seasonable admonition to the gay circle that chat and 
smile around them ! Thus may your hearts, at such 



366 A WINTER-PIECE, 

a juncture of need, kindle into a peculiar benevo- 
lence! Detain not your superfluous piles of wood: 
let them hasten to the relief of the starving family. 
Bid them expire in many a willing blaze to mitigate 
the severity of the season, and cheer the bleak abodes 
of want. So shall they ascend, mingled with thanks- 
givings to God, and ardent prayers for your welfare- 
ascend, more grateful to Heaven than columns of the 
most costly incense. 

Now the winds cease. Having brought their load, 
they are dismissed from service. They have wafted 
an immense cargo of clouds, which empty themselves 
in snow. At first, a few scattered shreds come wan- 
dering down the saddened sky. The slight skirmish 
is succeeded by a general onset. The flakes, large and 
numerous, and thick wavering, descend. They dim 
the air, and hasten the approach of night. Through 
all the night, in softest silence, and with a continual 
flow, this fleecy shower fails. In the morning, when 
we awake, what a surprising change appears ! Is 
this the same world ? Here is no diversity of colour ! 
I can hardly distinguish the trees from the hills on 
which they grow. Which are the meadows, and 
which the plains ? Where are the green pastures, and 
where the fallow lands? All things lie blended in 
bright confusion; so bright, that it heightens the 
splendour of day, and even dazzles the organs of 
sight. The lawn is not so fair as this snowy mantle 
which invests the fields; and even the lily, was the 
lily to appear, would look tarnished in its presence. 
I can think of but one thing, which excels or equals 
the glittering robe of winter. Is any person desirous 
to know my meaning ? He may find it explained in 



A WINTER-PIECE. 367 

that admirable hymn,* composed by the royal peni- 
tent. Is any desirous to possess this matchless orna- 
ment ? He will find it offered to his acceptance in 
every page of the gospel. 

See! (for the eye cannot satisfy itself, without 
viewing again and again the curious, the delicate 
scene) see ! how the hedges are habited like spotless 
vestals ! The houses are roofed with uniformity and 
lustre; the meadows are covered with a carpet of 
the finest ermine ; f the groves bow beneath the 
lovely burden ! and all, all below, is one wide, im- 
mense, shining waste of white. By deep snows, and 
heavy rains, God sealeth up the hand of every man ; 
and for this purpose, adds our sacred philosopher, 
that all men may know his work. | He confines 
them within their doors, and puts a stop to their 
secular business, that they may consider the things 
which belong to their spiritual welfare ; that, having 
a vacation from their ordinary employ, they may ob- 
serve the works of his power, and become acquainted 
with the mysteries of his grace. 

And worthy, worthy of all observation, are the 
works of the great Creator ! They are prodigiously 
various, and perfectly amazing. How pliant and 
ductile is nature under his forming hand ! At his 
command, the self-same substance assumes the most 
different shapes, and is transformed into an endless 

* Can any thin^ be whiter than snow! Yes, saitli David ; 
if God be pleased to wash me from my sins in the blood ot 
Christ, 1 shall be even whiter than snow. Psal. li. 7. See 
p. SSI. 

t This animal is milk-white. As for those black spots which 
we generally see, in linings of ermine, they are added by the 
furrier, in o'rder to diversify the appearance or heighten the 



368 A WINTEK-PIECE. 

multiplicity of figures. If he ordains, the water is 
moulded into hail, and discharged upon the earth 
like a volley of shot ; or it is consolidated into ice, 
and defends the rivers, • as it were with a breast- 
plate.' At the bare intimation of his will, the very 
same element is scattered in hoar-frost, like a sprink- 
ling of the most attenuated ashes ; or is spread over 
the surface of the ground, in these couches of swell- 
ing and flaky down. 

The snow, however it may carry the appearance of 
cold, affords a warm garment for the corn, screens it 
from nipping frosts, and cherisheth its infant growth. 
It will abide for a while, to exert a protecting care, 
and exercise a fostering influence ; then, touched by 
the sun, or thawed by a softening gale, the furry 
vesture melts into genial moisture, sinks deep into 
the soil, and saturates its pores with the dissolving 
nitre ; replenishing the globe with those principles of 
vegetative life, which will open into the bloom of 
spring, and ripen into the fruits of autumn. Beauti- 
ful emblem this, and comfortable representation of 
the divine word, both in the successful and advan- 
tageous issue of its operation ! « As the rain cometh 
down, and the snow from heaven, and retumeth not 
thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring 
forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, 
and bread to the eater; so shall my word be, that 
goeth forth out of my mouth; it shall not return 
unto me void, but shall accomplish that which I 
please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereunto I 
sent it.'* 

Nature at length puts off her lucid veil. She drops 

it in a trickling thaw. The loosened snow rolls in 

* tsai. lv. jo, u. 



A WINTER-PIECE 369 

sheets from the houses; various openings spot the 
hills ; which, even while we look, become larger and 
more numerous. The trees rid themselves, by de- 
grees, of the hoary incumbrance; shook from the 
springing boughs, part falls heavy to the ground, 
part flies abroad in shining atoms. Our fields and 
gardens, lately buried beneath the drifted heaps, rise 
plain and distinct to view. Since we see nature once 
again, has she no verdant traces, no beautiful features 
left ? They are like real friends, very rare ; and there- 
fore the more particularly to be regarded, the more 
highly to be valued. Here and there the holly hangs 
out her glowing berries ; the Laurustinus spreads her 
graceful tufts ; and both, under a covert of unfading 
foliage. The plain but hardy ivy clothes the decrepit, 
crazy wall; nor shrinks from the friendly office, 
though the skies frown, and the storm roars. The 
laurel, firm, erect, and bold, expands its leaf of vivid 
green. In spite of the united, the repeated attacks of 
wind, and rain, and frost, it preserves an undismayed 
lively look, and maintains its post, while withering 
millions fall around; worthy, by vanquishing the 
rugged force of winter, worthy to adorn the tri- 
umphant conqueror's brow. Nor must I forget the 
bay tree, which scorns to be a mean pensioner on 9 
few transient sunny gleams ; or, with a servile obse- 
quiousness, to vary its appearance in conformity to 
the changing seasons ; by such indications of sterling 
worth and staunch resolution, reading a lecture to the 
poet's genius, while it weaves the chaplet for his 
temples. These, and a few other plants, clad with 
native verdure, retain their comely aspect in the 
bleakest climes and in the coldest months. 
Such, and so durable, are the accomplishments of 



370 A WINTER-PIECE, 

a refined understanding and an amiable temper. The 
tawdry ornaments of dress, which catch the unthink- 
ing vulgar, soon become insipid and despicable. The 
rubied lip and the rosy cheek fade. Even the spark- 
ling wit, as well as the sparkling eye, please but for 
a moment. But the virtuous mind has charms, which 
survive the decay of every inferior embellishment; 
charms, which add to the fragrancy of the flower, the 
permanency of the evergreen. 

Such, likewise, is the happiness of the sincerely 
religious; like a tree, says the inspired moralist, 
« whose leaf shall not fall.' He borrows not his peace 
from external circumstances; but has a fund within, 
and is ' satisfied from himself.'* Even though im- 
poverished by calamitous accidents; he is rich in the 
possession of grace, and richer in the hope of glory. 
His joys are infinitely superior to, as well as nobly 
independent on, the transitory glow of sensual de- 
light, or the capricious favours of what the world 
calls fortune. 

If the snow composes the light-armed troops of the 
sky, methinks the hail constitutes its heavy artillery.! 
When driven by a vehement wind, with what dread- 
ful impetuosity, does that stony shower fall ! How 
it rebounds from the frozen ground, and rattles on 
the resounding dome ! It attenuates the rivers into 
smoke, or scourges them into foam. It crushes the 
infant flowers, cuts in pieces the gardener's early 
plants, and batters the feeble fortification of his 
glasses into shivers It darts into the traveller's face; 

* Prov. xiv. n. 

+ He casteth forth his ice like morsels. Psahii cxlvii. 17: 
which, in modern language, might be thus expressed; He 
poureth his hail like a volley of shot. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 371 

he turns, with haste, from the stroke ; or feels, on 
his cheek, for the gushing blood. If he would retreat 
into the house, it follows him eren thither ; and like 
a determined enemy, that pushes the pursuit, dashes 
through the crackling pains. But the fierce attack is 
quickly over. The clouds have soon spent their shafts, 
soon unstrung their bow. Happy for the inhabitants 
of the earth, that a sally so dreadfully furious should 
be so remarkably short ! What else could endure the 
shock, or escape destruction ? 

But, behold a bow, of no hostile intention ! — a bow, 
painted in variegated colours, on the disburdened 
cloud. How vast is the extent, how delicate the tex- 
ture, of that showery arch ! It compasseth the hea- 
vens with a glorious circle, and teaches us to forget 
the horrors of the storm. Elegant its form, and rich 
its tincture, but more delightful its sacred signifi- 
cancy. While the violet and the rose blush in its 
beautiful aspect, the olive-branch smiles in its gra- 
cious import. It writes, in radiant dyes, what the 
angels sung in harmonious strains, • Peace on earth, 
and good-will towards men.' It is the stamp of in- 
surance, for the continuance of seed-time and harvest, 
for the preservation and security of the visible world ;* 
it is the comfortable tokenf of a better state, and a 
happier kingdom — a kingdom, where sin shall cease, 
and misery be abolished ; where storms shall beat» 
and winter pierce no more ; but holiness, happiness, 
and joy, like one unbounded spring, for ever, ever 
bloom. 

Gen. ix. 12—16. Rev. vi. 9. 



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